<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Striding Forward by ParadiseForGremlins</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415035">Striding Forward</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseForGremlins/pseuds/ParadiseForGremlins'>ParadiseForGremlins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Street Fighter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boyfriends, Drama &amp; Romance, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tragedy, past trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-29 05:41:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseForGremlins/pseuds/ParadiseForGremlins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cody Travers merely desired a thrill for life. Getting thrown to rot in jail wasn't one of them, and so wasn't becoming a replacement Mayor for Metro City. Times have changed for the better, Mad Gear was a fleeting memory for everyone involved. Life goes on yet Cody barely gets by. Everyone else had moved on, although, why can't he?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Guy (Final Fight)/Cody Travers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Out of Prison</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm late as to this fandom, although this is probably one of the very few fanfics I'll ever write here. CodyGuy is one of my favourite ships from Street Fighter, there's just something about the two and their bromance that I can't shake off. I'll try my best to update the story as time goes on, you won't be waiting long of course! I'm a rookie for fanfics and this one always came to mind for a little Creative Writing warmup. Plot wise, this story adds upon Cody's nostalgia for the old times, and how he copes with life outside of the prison cell. Yes, there is GuyxCody in here. These two mf are so cute I could die</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It started when he became the newly-elected Mayor of Metro City.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On Haggar’s terms, the former Mayor saw the potential of a better city in the hands of Cody Travers. The son he never had, Haggar grew to like the troublemaker. The child always gleamed of a brighter future, as if he was the Anti-Superman to the crime-ridden town. The events of Mad Gear was a distant past, but a grave concern always latched beneath Haggar. After his release from the bars of prison, the man remained indifferent since the day of his incarceration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His half-baked agreement to being the Mayor’s heir was the smallest drop of hope for a huge turnaround in Cody’s life. Soon, on weeks end, he had trained a former convict into the Haggar of the next generation. A product on spotlight, standing at the pedestal with as much of a noble cause he could muster. Deep down, a couple beatdowns would </span>
  <em>
    <span>usually</span>
  </em>
  <span> do the trick, although this </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> one of the few moments that he was seen as one of the good guys. Recognised a hero, as if criminal was foreign lingo to his name. The citizens were pleased with the change of position, embracing the upcoming end of Haggar’s reign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Let’s give it up for Mayor Cody! For a better Metro City!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all happened so quickly. At first, the triumphant cheers were an overwhelming change of pace for the escaped convict. Fighting was his life, law was never his forte, he would get his hands </span>
  <em>
    <span>dirty</span>
  </em>
  <span> if anyone got in his way. It was a 180 from his prison self. From now on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was held accountable for the lives of over 120,000 people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See what I talked about kid? They love you!" Haggar nudged his shoulders in satisfaction, there was finally some peace to his career, knowing whose hands had fallen to claim his position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eh, I learn from the best." The ruffian exchanged. There was a bitter smile to his words, shrugging off the thought of the major transition laid before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’ll let city council handle the citizens. There someone I'd like you to meet kid, walk with me." Haggar grinned. The older man escorted him as they ventured out city central, a nostalgia Cody would familiarise with. At a sidewalk, chauffeur in pleasure to meet the newly elected mayor, the men were introduced to a tour of the whole city. Rounding back to city hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From inner-city slums to cozy sublet apartments, or the whiffs of industrial revolution that lingered Cody’s senses. There was a drifting sentiment that Cody couldn't let go of. At the back of a dark muscle car, with his father-figure by his side. Mingling with the chauffeur as they drove past an out-of-date timeline of events. It was a life so alien to the young man, he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>really responsible </span>
  </em>
  <span>for </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Haggar mask fell clean off his face. Of course it’s a plunge he had to get used to. What’s having a criminal like </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> got to do with a better Metro City? Lost in thought, time was his ally, already parked outside city hall. Doors swung open, ready for mayorly business. Designer heels tapped rhythmically against the floor, coming towards the black Camaro as the chauffeur ushered the men out of the car. It was a refreshing stretch for the body after a long car ride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations on your inauguration, Mayor Cody. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” A firm hand reached out to the young mayor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Marlowe. From today, I’ll be assisting you in your duties as mayor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Mayor Slayer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marlowe was one hell of a sight. </p>
<p>A signature scarlet babe, perked with a considerately curvaceous hourglass body, she was high-class governess material. Hair done up in a loose ginger ponytail, she personified red from cardigan, skirt to heels. Pleasant to the eye, yet screamed hands off; after-hours only. A la mode indeed, she was a classy woman whose aura demanded respect. Cody could feel an alluring nature within her, as if there was a side to her he could never access. </p>
<p>"From today, I’ll be assisting you in your duties as mayor.” She informed. </p>
<p>"We don't need the formalities, Maisie." Haggar chuckled, the woman always wanted to make an impression. It was natural for Marlowe, who had interned her way to an administrative position as authoritative as a mayor’s underling. </p>
<p>"Cody, this is Maisie, she prefers Marlowe but Maisie gets her talkin' heaps." The older man bantered, informally easing the conversation, Maisie was flushed as red as the outfit she presented herself in. An awkward snicker, she pointed her glasses up as she retreated behind a clipboard.</p>
<p>"Mr. Haggar, I'd prefer if we discuss inside. Please follow me, there's just so much information to cover for the Mayor." Marlowe struggled, eager to get the men inside the building.</p>
<p>The city hall was a trademark of authority for the wealthy. Pillars built like giants, it was etched with patriotic insignia, standing proudly without a care in the world. A Metro City slum boy like Cody would never understand the fancies such a place could offer. American to a fault, it was every rising politician's dream to inherit a place as big as the city hall. </p>
<p>"If you're busy staring at the view Mayor Cody, I recommend we start business before leisurely activity." Marlowe straightened up. Her glasses fogged up, as if her gaze was cold enough to chill the lens on her face. </p>
<p>Haggar took the signal, it wasn't the best time to celebrate so eagerly. Fixing his tie, he did the best he could to laugh the tension off the irate woman. Cody raised his eyebrows, piqued at Marlowe's drive to get formalities running.</p>
<p>"Heh, what should I do with you two?" Haggar grinned, playfully choke holding the mayor in a fatherly grasp. </p>
<p>"Maisie, when you're ready, take my boy out and show him the ropes will ya?" Haggar headed into the building before the two, a departing wave as he attended to whatever duties he had going on. </p>
<p>Cody dazed at the glimpse of indoors awaiting City Hall. It was a beehive, swarming with council staff left and right. Suit and ties, pencil skirts and thick rimmed glasses were native to the people, frantically pacing from corridor to corridor.</p>
<p>Cody yawned. It was boring.</p>
<p>"Don't tell me this is 'mayorly' duty" He pouted. Ruffling the excessive gel in his hair in culminating frustration. </p>
<p>"Please, this is little to nothing at our headquarters. It's just paperwork." She ridiculed. Unaware of the amount of paperwork and writing the young criminal never got into. </p>
<p>"Eek! Mayor! What are you doing?!" Marlowe squealed.</p>
<p>His hands were sticky with residue. Hair flopped both ends. His hair was a mess, fed up with the trapping sensation of hair gel. His mayorly training had gone off the rails. </p>
<p>"Inside. Now." Marlowe disciplined. She was exhausted. Handkerchiefs on the go, she seized his elbows, pulling him into the hall with as little public sight possible. </p>
<p>The two directed themselves towards the union halls, Marlowe frantically searching far and wide for a discreet place to fix the man’s attire. A jungle of marbled pillars headed their way, from golden lining to mahogany furniture, kiosks were stocked with inquiries day and night. From military representatives to crafty businessmen, Marlowe was right. Paperwork wasn’t the only thing at council hall.</p>
<p>“Man, and I thought Haggar was an old geezer..” Cody outspoken. He was a rock in a waterfall, uncompromising to the current moving him. Marlowe was desperate, heels urgently pleading for cooperation. Ghostly chatters lingered throughout the halls.</p>
<p>People where whispering. People were talking.</p>
<p>People were <em> gossiping. </em></p>
<p>Marlowe’s face crumbled. She reached her limits. Nauseous of the duty to handle the man-child of a mayor. It was high expectations in such a window of time. Marlowe closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths, trying to appease the demons in her mind. <em> Desperate </em>to find any nirvana left to remedy her day. A few moments finally, a weight lifted off her body.</p>
<p>A <em> weight </em>was lifted off her body?</p>
<p>……</p>
<p>Water whistled within the piping of a marbled restroom. An old man chirped together with the silence, mopping away grime and ick from its floors. As if being a janitor was a dream job, he gracefully did the deed, floors squeaky clean, dispensers loaded with sanitary facilities, urinals scented menthol and the toilet seats were ready for manly labour. Seemingly a regular afternoon for the man, it was a routine perfect for the senile worker. A routine laborious and peaceful, undisturbed without interruption.</p>
<p>
  <em> It was this very moment he knew that today wasn’t a typical Friday Night Bingo.  </em>
</p>
<p>A large thud followed. Door hinges snapped unceremoniously. The glossy floors screeched Banshees. Large hands turned a tap knob. Water gushed turbulently. </p>
<p>The young mayor finally found a restroom. </p>
<p>A set of eyes jolted his direction. The restroom attendant couldn’t make out of the events that partook.  </p>
<p>A momentary silence, Cody’s eyes preyed upon the man. A hand running water through his hair, little to no remorse for his hard work, he pointed at the janitorial supplies. </p>
<p>“Uhh, got any hair gel lyin’ around in there?.” He asked. </p>
<p>The man was speechless. Wow.  Just, <em> wow. </em>Cody’s hair was unkempt, strands of dirty blonde rested on the sink. His footsteps left dark prints, the bathroom door clung to the wall, barely swinging on for its dear life. </p>
<p>“Um, a towel? How about a towel?”</p>
<p>Silence prolonged. The janitor sighed, disgruntled by the ruckus that the young man made. His forehead creased like fabric. </p>
<p>“Mm. Just a moment, we could use <em> more </em>than a towel.” The old man passively sassed. </p>
<p>There was salt to his words. Cody knew that. </p>
<p>Cody didn't care.</p>
<p>"Heh, You don't know who you're talking to." He grinned. </p>
<p>"I do, ya filthy criminal. You think being the buddy of a high-respected man such as yer’ Mayor gonna stop the fact you<em> tried to kill </em> some folks in his <em> own </em>city? What was that? Aggravated assault? Illegal possession of weaponry..”  The man continued, productively pacing around the restroom. </p>
<p>“That stupid gang, what you ma’call it? That ‘Mad Gear’ gang of yours. Don’t bring that stupid whack here. Y’know, there’s better men out there who could take your place.”  Finishing unwanted touches to the restroom, the man tossed a hair gel packet to the mayor, alongside disposable napkins fresh from the bathroom dispenser. </p>
<p>“Don’t push yer limits with how far you can get away with this crap.” The old man resolved. He drove his trolley distrustfully, a sign requesting for bathroom repairs stuck to the restroom door. </p>
<p>He couldn’t be kidding. He was probably right. </p>
<p>Cody couldn’t comprehend the cruel words the man delivered. Shortly fazed, his posture rested on the counter. Fists tightened, his chest puffed subtly. Hands balled, a sweet ooze trickled, the hair gel’s entrails plopped onto the floor. Unsteadily.</p>
<p>He glimpsed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t much. It was just a man. It was <em> just </em>Cody. </p>
<p>Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more.</p>
<p>A hand struck the mirror. From one dent spread cracks from corner-to-corner. The glass was shattered, a sorrowful mosaic presented itself upon the mayor. He was stuck in a gaze. Knuckles swollen, his heart raced. He felt the adrenaline rushing down his body, his hand writhed in satisfaction. </p>
<p>“Hey, who’s in there!” A voice echoed. Enormous thuds grew in volume, closer to his location.</p>
<p>It was Haggar. </p>
<p>The ex-mayor sighed in relief. Although not quite impressed by the mess he entered into. </p>
<p>“Uh, perhaps it’s time to call it a day?”</p>
<p>“What can I say pops? I'm beat.” Cody replied. He flicked his wrists, glass shards etched near his knuckles.</p>
<p>Haggar smiled wryly, fumbling his chin in thought. </p>
<p>"Hey, I know yer still fresh from prison, but you can't keep sleeping on the couch." Haggar voiced his thoughts.</p>
<p>Cody raised his eyebrows, it was ridiculous. There was no problem with Haggar's couch. He <em> loved </em>the couch. </p>
<p>"Ah, finally movin' out some of Jessica's old junk now boss?" He caught an idea. Although not really, he would have slept on the couch either way if it were up to the man.</p>
<p>"I'm not movin nothin', <em> you </em> are though." Haggar smiled. "I rented out a place for you, a few blocks down the city hall. It's one of those millennial business apartments y'know? With your salary, it's more than enough to cover the bills." Haggar proposed, although, Cody could care less about what happens next anyways. </p>
<p>"Hm, sounds… great?" Cody shrugged, Haggar knew there was little interest in his eyes. Compared to Marlowe, Cody reminded him of a feeling Haggar couldn't describe at the top of his head. It felt wistful to the father. </p>
<p>"Come on boy, let's make a run for it." Haggar patted Cody on the back, escorting him out the concrete jungle of city hall.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Cody's nerves have left the chat. Thank you so much for the support of the pilot chapter of this fanfic! I don't know what else to put in here.. Heh, deskwork isn't always my thing y'know? Guess I can have a little fun now~ hehehehe </p>
<p>Thanks!<br/>~BWOT :-)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. To Be Mayor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rise of a slum boy from rags to riches was irrelevant to Cody.</p>
<p>From the dreaded job of moving boxes, Haggar had an obligation to help the boy out. The repetitive motion was a workout to the man, although he would have hired a professional to do the deed, time in prison was a ruckus of nonexistence to the outside world. To only be known as a suburban legend who roamed the streets, the guy could use a workout. No use for those muscles if all they're gonna get was a beating he asked himself, although he'd keep that secret from Cody. </p>
<p>A sunset into the evening, the apartment was boxes. Tabled on his new counter laid celebratory pizza alongside a few bottles of beer here and there, the two silently munched on the feast. Cody wasn’t much of a people person, not that Haggar knew of when Mad Gear was around. The reformed man stared at the counter, nibbling in contemplation. Minimum words exchanged.</p>
<p>It was the lousy traffic from the  kitchen window that Haggar made most of in Cody's silence. The man's hands barely flinched, a sterile bandage tightly wrapped around his knuckles. Haggar fiddled his beer bottle as the man munched away. </p>
<p>"So.. care to explain the commotion from the wash?" Haggar initiated. Eyes attentive for an answer. </p>
<p>"It was nothin' but an oldie who got in my way." Cody frankly explained. He checked his bandages, wiggling the damaged hand to seemingly prove a point to the man. </p>
<p>"And this? It's nothin'." He demonstrated. Cody gobbled the food in gulps, inconsiderately stuffing his mouth with pizza. </p>
<p>"Whatever you say, boy.." Haggar surrendered. He chuckled as he took a few sips of his beverage, easing the tension from the events of today. </p>
<p>"That old geezer.. said a lot of things.." Cody muttered, he stared down at the counter, feeling around the injuries on his fist. </p>
<p>"Agh, it's just— For god sake man, the past.. it's not goin' easy on me..." He palmed his face, a crooked grin creased his jaw. Feeling the stubble on his chin in thought.</p>
<p>"I know you didn't do it." Haggar reassured. He knew how it was during the time, how scared he was to lose his daughter, or the amount of times the boy put himself in danger just to protect her. They all fought on the same team, the conquests he spent with Cody and his weird ninja friend were too many. He couldn't count the quantity of knuckle sandwiches he'd served Mad Gear for years. </p>
<p>"Y'know, if it makes you feel better, years after your trial that Edi E. got his; deputy terminated his position!" Haggar brightened, he took a few chugs of beer. Reminiscing about a justice in hopes to encourage the mayor. "Boy, it was karma alright. But like you said, it's just the past." </p>
<p>Cody continued his meal. His eyes were devoid of interest, lacking concentration of the subject on the table.</p>
<p>"Hey, Cody. Just remember: Metro City needs <em> you </em> . It's a hell hole alright, criminals lurkin' about an' all. But <em> you, you </em> can change that <em> ." </em> Haggar patted his back in concern, it was coincidence that he had received a call right after. Eager to pick up, the old mayor made his way to the outdoor balcony. Cody stared, <em> someone wasn't happy </em>.</p>
<p>Haggar awkwardly grinned at the boy, a drop of sweat ran down his forehead. The phone made it obvious that he had taken a verbal scolding.</p>
<p>"Mr. Haggar! Today's induction ended ridiculously! Not only was Mayor Cody out of attire but he vandalised—" An unpleasant female voice bickered.</p>
<p>Cody dazed off once again. The years he spent in his cell, it was second nature to his life. From days where  community work was unavailable or from battles to pick at the cafeteria hall, it was nothing but him and his cell room. Feeling around the bars was a first-day activity, years on it was just a homely thing to do. Cody's stomach rumbled, was he feeling queasy? The man stood, he needed a walk. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more.</p>
<p>Staring at his father figure, it felt hours that Haggar received a bicker from the scarlet woman. The older man paced around the balcony, sliding his hands down its metal railings, towering down the endless traffic and the countlessly infuriating-enough beeps he'd heard. He walked back indoors, sliding the window to an empty table; messy handwriting scribbled on the pizza box. </p>
<p>"Out gross-ery shoping"</p>
<p>Haggar snickered, Cody's atrocious writing stood out to the man. Hell, does he know his way around? A few spelling mistakes here and there wouldn't hurt the mayor's reliability, the man rewrote the typo, '<em> grocery shopping' </em>he corrected. Rummaging through the boxes, he found himself remnants of a camping set. Sitting himself in the lounge room with the foldable gear, he was glad. Not too shabby, but Cody’s on his way for a change of pace.</p>
<p>“I wonder what he’s up to..” Haggar thought..</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>It was an unusual place for the boy. </p>
<p>An evening stroll, the grocery store was different to the mess hall. The place was.. <em> Civil. </em> The man made his way from the sliding doors. <em> Man, you can choose what to eat? </em>He walked around the place, it was long since he did something as regular as an errand run. Taking a green basket, he explored the place and its contents. Fresh produce? Dairy sections? The man went through the aisles, it was just like the first time he had entered the supermarket, except without the urge to shoplift during a purchase. </p>
<p>“Hey! Watch wher’ya goin’. NCPD comin’ through!” A woman hollered. Her face zonked into his chest, she was irritated by the sudden body slam. Hands combat ready, a blue cap shoved him steps away from the Processed Goods aisle. He regarded the mess on the tiles… <em> Instant Noodles?  </em></p>
<p>“We’re all in a rush but next time I’ll take ya to the—OH MY-STARS!”</p>
<p>The woman's jaw dropped. Her hands instantaneously squeezed his shoulders. Her eyes twinkled with reunion. Blonde hair puffed in excitement.</p>
<p>Cody couldn’t comprehend the encounter, a smile beamed from seeing the familiar face.</p>
<p>“—! L-Lucia!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for waiting! Student life is a pain. Hopefully the next chapter comes out weekly or fortnightly but I don't know about the schedule.. Lots of Love!<br/>- BWOT<br/>:)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Late-Night Valentine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(Valentine's Day Special): Valentine's Day is coming up, and Guy doesn't know how to approach Mr. Mayor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today was Valentine’s Day.</p><p>The man muttered to himself, unsure of how to approach the situation. He proceeded to the florist a few blocks away from the apartment. It’s been ages since Guy had to prepare for such an event. Regularly, Rena and him would have indulged in a few romantic words. A sappy poem or two for the lady, they’d have a feast of whatever Asian cuisine Rena prepared for the Bushinryu family at the dojo. Other than that, the ideas he exchanged with his little circle of friends at Metro City were useless. </p><p>“I’d love a man who’d buy me flowers.” Poison proclaimed, as if there were golden rules to the event.  “Well, flowers aren’t my thing but chocolates would be great? Anythin’ with food really..” Lucia thought.</p><p>Guy took the time to think solidly about the man. What would the mayor like? For the months they’ve been together the simplest things interested him. He was <em> anything </em> but fine in fine dining, he’d prefer takeout over a proper meal, he’d hate formal wear and his favourite pair of shoes were sandals. <em> Sandals. </em></p><p>The mayor was <em> difficultly simple </em> , Guy wanted something practical, but <em> come on </em> , Cody liked the wilder side. But cliche? Guy murmured once more, a bouquet <em> would be romantic </em>...</p><p>Would Cody love them too? Chimes ringed as he stepped into the store, it was profoundly fragrant. Generously hedged, it was every urban gardener’s paradise. From varieties of suitors for valentine bouquets, the store was well kept. Vines, succulents and evergreens called the walls home, the marbled counters incarnate St. Valentine himself, from chocolates to ridiculously oversized teddy bears, sappy words ranging; “Be mine”, “I Love You” or “Together Forever” Guy couldn’t help but snort. He explored the parameter, the pricing was expensive, the effort put into them explained enough. </p><p>“Mornin’! How can I help ya?” A middle-aged woman tended by, she uniformed a linen apron, holding a bouquet of flowers as she neatly hitched the stems together. </p><p>“Greetings, I’d like a bouquet, a romantic one.” The man bowed.</p><p>“Oh sweetie! Which one?” The woman laughed, she meant no harm, although his eyebrows furrowed in agitation.</p><p>He observed the flowers ahead, from roses to carnations, to run-of-the-mill lilies, tulips and daffodils, she had a point. He didn’t know anything about flowers. He just wanted something that would impress the man.</p><p>“Valentine’s Day. I’m not well informed of the matter.. It’s for someone — special.” He felt vulnerable, embarrassed and questioning what he was getting into.</p><p>The lady was well aware of the matter. A typical day for the woman, she picked out a batch for the man. Although not in the way customers regularly did. He was <em> weird </em> alright, standing all straight and firmly. Tense and postured as he eyed the lady. When was he going to give her a break? He was a surveillance camera watching every nook and cranny for error. Guy wasn’t aware of how intimidating it would be if a strongly built man with a menacing glance started a first impression with a suspicious groan. </p><p>“How's this?" The lady finished, her fingers intricately designed the bouquet. Surprisingly, roses weren't the only flowers suitable for Valentine's Day. Guy firmly took the transaction, a grunt of agreement as he took his change. At last, he bowed and left the store, swiftly. </p><p>—</p><p>"Mayor Cody, the infrastructure and partnership agreement documents are due early morning." Marlowe reminded. Cody slumped exhausted on his office desk. </p><p>"Yeah, yeah, it'll be done tomorrow." Cody reassured, there was misery in his reply. The man was worn out from all the campaign proposals he clocked in, or the various arrangements Marlowe had planned during working hours.</p><p>"Lucky for you, your schedule's free for the rest of today!" Marlowe beamed. She bowed in approval as she let him continue his work. </p><p>The man was alone, again. Sitting by his business laptop he typed whatever came to mind about the paperwork. On his white office desk, he took time to contemplate on the few photographs that laid on his counter. From selfies with friends, or the photos he took with businessmen at the after-parties, he couldn't take his eyes off the family image. Framed in cardboard, Haggar, Cody and Guy sat at one of the diners in the Bay Area. His arm wrapped both Guy and Haggar's shoulders, the smiles on their faces were infectiously jovial. And just a simple glimpse, his veins surged. He knew he had to get the work done, ASAP. His fingers were determined, his eyes burned with resolution. The ruffian typed his afternoon away as the keys on his laptop smashed in agony. He <em> should </em> type gently, although he wouldn't mind buying another office tool.</p><p>—</p><p>"Hyaaa!!"</p><p>Kids ran around the gymnasium. Belts were scattered around the floor and robes were loosely clung and worn inappropriately. From crazy kung fu bullshido to off-form kata, the teacher could only teach a handful of students whom had formed a tiny workshop around her.  </p><p>"Ahem." A deep voice entered. </p><p>The room went silent. After a few exchanges in nods and glances, kids had rearranged themselves for the lesson, ready stances in belt groups. </p><p>The woman was thankful, nodding her head in respect to the man. The children quietly socialised in their areas.</p><p>"Thanks again, Guy." Maki gratefully stated. She was on the verge of shouting at the kids, although she wouldn't appreciate the reprimands she'd get back from their parents. </p><p>The two watched the children do drills from their superior belts. Kneeled on a console table, the bouquet laid at peace alongside the porcelain tea set. With some deserved rest, Maki put her strawberry blond locks in a bun. Guy had set aside his white coat on the tatami. </p><p>"So, you're telling me you DIDN'T bother asking me about what to give your boyfriend?!" Maki squalled. </p><p>"Please Maki, you're not the most idealistic— ...Nevermind." Guy was well aware of Maki's helplessness in romance. She was a flame that was quick to put out. The woman sighed in betrayal, continuing her tea as the two monitored the dojo. </p><p>“Won’t he like it?” Guy inquired. He didn’t think the man would appreciate a courtship well received by women. </p><p>“Duh, it’s Valentine’s Day. It’s a present.” Maki huffed. </p><p>“It's the thought that counts, what comes from the heart and all. Well, my sister would say that.."</p><p>"She would so." Guy simpered in relief. The two sat in silence as they soaked in the view. At least for now, Guy could ease the pounding in his chest.</p><p>—</p><p>The city hall was closing up for the night, yet the night was long. Not close to finishing, a lone desk lamp illuminated the hackneyed mayor in his chair. Mugs of coffee were gulped down, stains browned rings on old paper, claiming the throne that was his desk. Cody grunted, he was dead beat. The whole paperwork was <em> lame.  </em> It felt futile to the mayor, who was too fatigued to muster frustration on the uselessness of such wordy documentation. He could be spending it on better things, in fact It's <em> Valentine's Day, </em> he remembered. </p><p>Pondering on the romantic holiday, he was furious at himself, disappointed as he headbutted his head on the desk. </p><p>—</p><p><em> Rustle. Kling </em>. It was a late night. Bistros were jam-packed with reservations, the city loitered couples on sidewalks by the central plaza. Could the entrance be any louder? The craft paper on the bouquet did not do justice for the ninja, rustling against the stems as he entered the mayor's office. His office was a mess. It was the key signs of a Mayor cramming diligently on a deadline. Guy couldn't stand the disorganisation. Although, he wouldn't be bothered to clean it up either way. Placing the bouquet by the dozed off mayor, he pulled a chair to watch the man. Guy was like a guardian angel to Cody, maybe a bothersome one at fault. </p><p>Gently he ran his fingers through the man's hair, the dried gel undone itself the slightest. The ninja found it amusing to watch over the man. His slender hands caressed his cheek, it meant everything to Guy. Knowing <em> he </em> was <em> his </em>and vice versa, it was therapeutic to him, he wanted to come closer. He wished he could, though it'd be difficult with a head face flat on the desk. </p><p>"If you're gonna do that you're better off staying." A hand firmly gripped his wrist. The hooligan awoken, but his eyes fluttered for sleep. </p><p>"Why wouldn't I?" Guy questioned, his hands let go of his hair, slipping his fingers through the man's grasp. The criminal pulled himself closer to the man. Laying his head on his shoulder, he clutched an arm around the man's torso. The mayor felt lonesome, as if he had spent all his life in solitude. He needed a hug. Guy returned back the gesture, letting the man snuggle his chin on his shoulder. </p><p>"Heh, this. I like it.." The man falsely grinned, his eyes were downbeat, his tone felt imprisoned. Guy knew about his worrisome habits, and a man trying to lighten the mood didn't help things. </p><p>"Another assignment due, left last minute?" </p><p>Cody didn't bother answering, it was at times, hard to handle the petty little remarks Guy had for every single thing. It was a part of his character alright, though he could tolerate it. Guy sighed in what seemed a relief, cupping both hands on the tyrant's face, their foreheads met. Guy leaned closer, in eskimo, affectionately nuzzling his forehead on Cody's. </p><p>"I can assist you if you'd like me to." The ninja optioned. A kiss softly landed on the mayor's forehead. </p><p>"Pfft, I can do it all on my own y'know." There was an attempt, in saving the mayor's pride.  Guy's face contorted smugly, as if in disbelief that he could get the pages done on time. But trusting the man, he let it go.</p><p>"Then, I'm staying here to supervise you." </p><p>"You didn't need to state the obvious." Cody's eyes crinkled. Guy was a dork, why wouldn't he stay? He was glad. Deep down, there was a favour Cody could never repay to Haggar, he was thankful.</p><p>"If this is the plan then I'll bring some refreshments. Don't get distracted." The ninja let go, he swung a door to the dimly lit halls, dashing off to the night. </p><p>It was only then did Cody realise the man left a gift by the table. He was touched, holding the bouquet for any noticeable fragrance.</p><p>"That's my <em> Guy </em>."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I originally intended to post this four days after Valentine's but school snatched my soul and here it is. As much as I'd like Guy to appear so suddenly I already have a plan in the plot. Overall, thanks for all the support! I'll be starting a weekly to fortnightly basis on chapters. Hopefully I can get them up if I sit down and have a cup of cawfee &gt;:) I'll Lu-See-Ya Later. &gt;:D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. An Old Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No matter how much the woman knew about the man, he always remained a mystery. </p><p>Traffic lights and outdoor lamp posts illuminated the night. Sitting outside the Metro City 7/11 on a wooden bench, an intimate conversation was unachievable this late at night. Nightclubs blasted with music, traffic was still at peak and sidewalks flooded from wacky drunkards to passerbyers. Coming weeks fresh from prison, it was nothing.</p><p>“Crazy runnin’ into you Mr. Mayor!” Lucia stretched her arms behind her head, a yawn to commemorate a long day of police duty. She copped a grin as she cranked a bottle of soda water she purchased at the store. Considerably, she had scavenged for a bubblegum within her plastic bags.  Motioning a wrapper for the man, he took the gesture, Cody didn’t mind chewing a bit of gum. </p><p>"If yer ever hungry or need'a drink lemme know and we can have a bite to eat downtown" The cop proposed, she propped herself back on the bench like a lounge, her arms dangled both arm rest and Cody's shoulder. Picking her pockets, she returned shades back to its casing, taking off her cap as she hollered the item like a fan. </p><p>"So, what do you do round here Lucie?" Cody asked. Her eyes widened in disbelief, fumbling her uniform and the badge that pridefully latched itself on the deputy. </p><p>"N-No, I mean like, what'you handle?" He restructured the question, although there wasn't a need to ask the second time. </p><p>"Any alleged crime cases Haggar reports to me." She answered, there was a chirp to her tune, an enjoyment in her eyes. Cody couldn't make out of her expression. Arguably, it <em> was </em> much gusto to meet an old friend, at best, a jolly catch-up with one that looked up to him.</p><p>A deafening jingle drove past the two. Tires dragged against the pavement as a bus made its way around the block. </p><p>"Oh crap!" Lucia shrieked. Her legs were on fire<em> , literally, and </em> in seconds, bags were packed shoulder to shoulder, groceries swaddled as she prepped a run for it. </p><p>"Welp, see ya around!" She patted a back in departure. Her sneakers, a smokey trail as she hurriedly ran across the block. </p><p>"Hey that's MY BUS!" Shrilled a woman.</p><p>The criminal squeezed his eyes in cringe, his face stretched sourly. It was a klutzy exit.</p><p>—</p><p><em> Slam. </em> After a few renovations around the apartment, Cody laid a mat for him to sleep on. The moon glimmered beneath the vertical blinds. It was a pretty view when you give the windows a peek. As the night grew deeper, traffic simmered down. Honks less frequent, crickets more often. It was nothing but him and the silence.</p><p>He looked up to the ceiling, his back pressed hard against the wooden planks. For the first time out of prison he was shivering. Peeved, it was the mat that was going to help him get through the night. His eyes surrendered for rest. </p><p>—</p><p>"Mayor! What are we going to do about the sewage systems?"</p><p>"We were captivated by your inauguration! What's your secre—"</p><p>"Mr. Mayor! Mayor Cody! What are your thoughts about the current state of our financial—"</p><p><em> Thwack. </em>Marlowe shook her head in disapproval, holding herself with reprimand as she wiped the fog off her glasses. It was a crowd, paparazzi could drown the new city council if they had to first thing in the morning.</p><p>“Forgive that, the media can be very <em> ‘irksome’ </em> in their search for information.” </p><p>Striding through the headquarters, Marlowe led the Mayor to the newly refurbished office. Minimalist. Venetian blinds front and back, side to side, floor lamps by the express desk, complemented with a few guest chairs. Fronting the desk, a dark Copenhagen coffee table. A lounge for a formal business meeting, it was as professional as it can get.  </p><p>"By the afternoon you'll be having a meeting with construction downtown.  Security personnel will be guarding the premises, please make sure you're downstairs by the concierge on time."</p><p>Marlowe bowed. The Miss excused herself as she eyed around the room.</p><p>"It's pretty comfy, please take care of the office. It's a nice one." She smiled, making her way out. Minimalist. The room was neat. A digital clock and some newspapers laid on the tables. He sat on the swivel chair, engaged in the various 360s he could take with a little bit of force and pressure on the table. He spun himself around, child-like. The synthetic leather was tough, the chair stood tall. Two could sit on the chair if they tried. Cody placed elbows on the desk, his head resting on his hands in boredom. </p><p>"Delivery!" A muffled voice yelped. A loud knock on the door as it revealed its visitor. Disposable cup packaging and two brews of coffee entered with feisty hands.</p><p>"What's wrong? Need a cuppa  caw-fee?" Lucia punchlined. She dawdled as she placed the beverages by his coffee table. "Ah, Lucie. Y'know cawfee ain' my thing." Cody grinned, holding a yawn with uncertainty.</p><p>"Aww crap! But I paid for them!" Lucia's expectations disappointed her.</p><p>No matter, the cop had placed a cup by his desk. </p><p>"It's freshly brewed, not too hot, keeps me up when I need it the most."</p><p>A strange nod, he shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip of the drink.</p><p>"Bleh." Cody disgusted. His body quivered in wakening, but his tongue stuck in disapproval. </p><p>"Those bartenders don't know how to brew a cup, too sweet, the cream's overdone." </p><p>"Aw shucks. Thought you'd like it.." Lucia murmured, a flustered grin, she eased the heat from the collar of her neck. Finding a culprit for the mishap was see-through.</p><p>"No use mopin', why you here?" Cody disassembled the cup's plastic, drinking from the cup.  </p><p>"MCPD at yer service. Heard 'bout the case downtown." She answered, </p><p>Lucia pulled herself closer, a case of secrecy to the man.</p><p>"Downtown's kinda tough— Lotsa sus people goin' <em> al garete </em>.."</p><p>"Downtown, near the slums aren't they?" Cody recalled. </p><p>"Technically— yeah."</p><p>A wistful smile doubted the man. <em>Slums. </em>He swung side to side on the chair. Pondering, <em>thinking</em>. </p><p>"I remember the good ol' days, fighting against crime while you were out." The cop forwarded, rubbing her shoulder. With the time she had, she readjusted her ponytail. </p><p>"Skull Cross Gang, right?" Fumbling his chin. "Yeah, I was at the Special Crimes Unit during the time." Lucia tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. A sheepish grin of nostalgia.</p><p>"I heard your crimes were exonerated. Mr. Haggar told me all about it actually, before they let you out." Cody raised an eyebrow, piqued by the trivial matter.</p><p>"It's donkey crap. What they did to you and all. Pinning the stupid crimes the Mad Gear did. It was..shit.." She winced her face. There was a mutual understanding between the two. Lucia held the man's damaged hand, squeezing a wrist for a sign, <em> anything </em> about what partook. She hoped that maybe, the man would agree, but Cody brushed her off, stared in indifference. <em> Coldly.  </em></p><p>"All that shit about undeserving. You make it sound like I <em> don't </em> belong there, which <em> I do </em>." He sighed, her eyes widened, in denial of his response. Her heart plummeted. His eyes merely rested on her tactical gear, handcuffs seemed like a play-toy for the man. She couldn't believe the nonsense he said about himself. It didn't seem right, it felt like anything but him.</p><p>"So, are we gonna keep whinin' or what?" He folded his arms, in question, tossing the empty cups into the bin. </p><p>"N-Nah, it's the past alright. Out with that.." She agreed, although every being of her didn't feel right.</p><p>"All these whatchamacallit, How do I use em?."</p><p>... </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. To Be Mayor, II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Afternoon. Slums. </p>
<p>Cody sat at the back of the car, alongside his delegate committee; Marlowe and an older police officer that shotgun with the chauffeur. With the security personnel vehicles leading front and back, it could never replace the entertainment of strolling the dead night after breaking out from a cell. Stopping at the destination, the unit of security stepped out first, Lucia strapped a black tactical vest, shades on, she strode the parameters with intent. Swinging her baton like a baseball bat. </p>
<p>With a few nods and motions, the representatives stepped out of the car. It was far from the Coca-Cola city politicians promised. The pungent smell of car oil. Wandering eyes side to side. Rats scurried around the dumpsters, having a feast in the back-alley garbage posts that overflowed with waste. It was putrid. Stepping a foot out of the Black Camaro, Marlowe flinched her heels, a shiver ran down her spine. The road was grimy, the skid trails of past cars exhibited sidewalks, the repulsing smell of must filled the air. "I suggest the council handle this matter sooner. Mr. Haggar was rather, <em> 'security' </em> oriented."</p>
<p>The young man stepped out. His nostrils familiarised the aroma. A limousine followed along afterwards, a parallel park to the kerb.</p>
<p>"It's a pleasure to be at your service, I'm the head of this operation." A young man stepped out. Hands wide open for a handshake, an average CEO joe greeted himself to the mayor. Suit and tie, suit and tie. <em> It's all suits and ties. </em></p>
<p>Good-for-nothing. It was all Cody could think about. There was a feeling of distrust towards the gentleman, the feeling of shady work behind the scenes. The entrepreneur knew the tough crowd, the sockets of his eyes engraved with the mayor's icy glare. It  cursed upon him. His hands made way around his tie, readjusting knots and button-ups were a comforting formality for the unshaken committee. </p>
<p>"Please, walk with me."</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>A temporary pleasure twinkled in the eyes of Cody Travers. They walked past the outskirts, tenements flashed graffiti art, dwellings wafted with the smell of old rain. They toured around the neighbourhood. A lingering sense of disgust crept upon Marlowe's face, a nasty scrawl to the businessman's step. Lucia walked alongside the mayor, her eyes locked on his. Her face tensed a smile, patting the man on the back once more.</p>
<p>"You can see the shi— Horrible conditions of this part of town." The CEO clasped his hands together, there was a mixed agreement, head nods and eyes of disapproval. He produced a handful of blueprints from his messenger bag. Relative to the place they entered. Weary, Cody lightly snatched the planning paper, Marlowe came along for a glimpse.</p>
<p>"Reimagining public property to expand Metro City marketing opportunities?" Marlowe read out, the blueprints seemed a viable recipe for a larger economy. Cody was undisturbed, a surprising sombre etched his face. "So.. Replacing some of the homes here with, a mall? A merchant paradise?" Cody made out of the proposal, he squinted his eyes in apprehension.</p>
<p>"Well, in a sense. Yes— Remaking Metro City from Top 20 to Top 10 of the largest central business districts! Not too shabby for a fortune innit?" He nudged in excitement. He was a comedian to the man, awaiting a pathetic laugh track of agreement. The thought of the idea made the mayor flinch. It was of no good mojo.</p>
<p>“Ah, so what’s the deadline for this thing?” He questioned, rubbing the back of his nape. Marlowe nodded in agreement, making a few notes on her clipboard. Lucia’s face twisted weirdly, shaking her head at the proposal all together. There was something fishy about it, the two traded glances. </p>
<p>A phone jingled. Vibrating within the pockets of the entrepreneur. He raised brows for approval. "Please, feel free to check out the site. In regards to the proposal, we sayin' a-week max hopefully." He nodded, hand on hip, walking alongside a guard in the opposite direction.</p>
<p>"Mayor Cody, this is the perfect time for an investigation. We should send a team and check out the site of action?" Marlowe suggested, guards sided the woman. All waiting for his majesty. "Sounds like a plan." Lucia planted a hand on the mayor's shoulder once more, he was <em>not</em> <em>having</em> the 'armrest' situation going on between him and the woman. He shook a shoulder, the lady shuddered, keeping her hands to herself. </p>
<p>"Me and Lucie can head along, heard she's an exceptional security guard." A charming wink at Lucia, whose face stretched wide, glimmering with an opportunity of a lifetime. She saluted in excitement, a muffled cackle.</p>
<p>"Defacto Head of Special Crimes. Boss out? I'm the one in charge." She advertised herself to the scarlet woman. The police shot looks at each other, whether it be the glance of admiration or condescending behaviour, Lucia had no regard. Proud of her position in security.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>The two wandered the slums, tenement to tenement were identical buildings. Whiffs of car petrol and rubbish, he wouldn't say it was the cleanest area, but it was home. And that mattered deeply to the man. Strolling the backstreets was relieving.</p>
<p>"Thoughts on the plan?" Cody questioned. </p>
<p>Lucia thought hardly of the proposal. "Sketchy. Man's not bad, the plan does though." She let an eye rest. </p>
<p>"Concerned about where they want to build, it's on tuppa these houses." She pointed, the towering jenga stack was not going to budge. The two were in a strange contemplation about the proposal's motive. </p>
<p>“Doesn’t feel quite right.” Cody voiced. The two continued along the sidewalk. The blue cop balancing on the edge of each kerb. </p>
<p>The murmurs of a felony stenched the air. </p>
<p>"Go on, do your worst kid."</p>
<p>The two rattled. </p>
<p>"Comin'round here to steal?"</p>
<p>Footsteps in crescendo. Running towards the source of sound.</p>
<p>"You had yer chance, it's over for you." </p>
<p>It was an alleyway where the scene took place. </p>
<p>Muffled whimpers of a dog sprawled in agony, a stockier man, face barely recognisable, held a younger boy strangled by the neck. Battered and bruised, barely alive. The adolescent was scrawny, of sullen eyes, asian descent. He could only do so much, suspended feet off the ground. </p>
<p>"P-Please. Nrgh, stop." His eyes cried, in fear of what was to come. Lucia's stomach dropped once more, a terrorised witness of a crime. A helpless child, scarce of life. Her fists clenched with justice. Her face puffed a deep crimson, her shoes ignited flames. </p>
<p>She charged, she bolted. Yet her back suffered an unforgiving impact against the brick wall. The mayor's glance cursed once more, at Lucia: the empty eyes of a criminal. Helpless, she barely stood. Her mouth zipped shut, speechless. </p>
<p>Clunks of metal collapsed at her feet. Water gushed at her side. Pipes fell off the railings. The mayor was lone. A pipe grasped alongside him. The scene was on pause, the stocky culprit, clueless of the gravity of his situation.</p>
<p>He plunged. He dropped. He shoved. He swung at the man. Then, the crackling of bones, the wailing of pain. The blood that trickled down the knuckles of its perpetrator. The man ceased to be. The eyes of a bloodthirsty predator latched indescribable fear.</p>
<p>Knocked out. The boy dropped on the concrete. His knees scraped in blood and bruises. With what was left, he made a run for the canine and fled. The man clung to his legs, his kneecaps blown off proportion. His eyes made contact with the mayor, there was nothing in those eyes but his reflection. </p>
<p>He punched, he bashed. The mayor proceeded once more. Beating the man to the bloody pulp he deserved to be. He pulled hair. He slammed. Mauled. Choked. Floored.</p>
<p>The man laid with the little life he had left. Close to unconsciousness. The same eyes that began its first step; the eyes of indifference. Lucia's body quivered, her knees could imagine the crushing sensation the man had felt in that very moment. Her legs stood up.</p>
<p><em> Whack. </em>The mayor dropped to the floor. The side of his forehead swollen with purple. </p>
<p>Lucia panted. Her hands clanged a baton on the floor. Its tip had crackled under the pressure it put itself on, defending a man who was initially a threat.</p>
<p>"What do you think yer doing!?" Lucia shouted, lunging towards the mayor. Attempting to hold the man's weight from her hands, it was an obvious violation of conduct. She wasn't petrified of the crime's events, but of the one who performed it start to finish.</p>
<p>Cody propped himself up. It was a slow yet monstrous rise. Lucia startled, there was no remorse, no apology, no guilt for the actions he had committed. Her ponytail drooped, her stance had lowered. She couldn't believe it. Her eyes couldn't bear it. She felt a sense of disgust, a sense of disappointment. A sense of fear in what she had witnessed. </p>
<p>"I coulda handled that better an'you know that." She kneeled to the injured man, checking for a sign of vitality. </p>
<p>Cody moved closer, to examine the mess he made, but haltered by the distrustful woman's baton. </p>
<p>"Ay caramba you've done enough Mister Mayor." A provoked defense, Lucia wasn't letting him closer. He stood above the two on the floor, a handkerchief from Lucia's pockets was a makeshift aid to stop the bleeding. </p>
<p>"I'm not mad. Just peeved, stuff happens all the time, <em> you took it way too far. </em>" Lucia broke the silence. Walkie-talkie, she voiced the casualty. </p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Her instincts tapped his arm. The fresh wound had been soaked in blood, the bandages were of no use. He disassembled the fitting into the trash. </p>
<p>“Mayor, what is the meaning of this?”</p>
<p>The team had relocated after the signal. A guard leading the way. The two police officers exchanged glances, sealing the scene for an ambulance to make its way through. </p>
<p>“Thanks for comin’, man tried to assault Mister Mayor, took it into his own hands.” Heels pranced once more, the sounds of a vigorous stampede marched along. It was Marlowe and the remaining crew. The reek of blood nauseated the woman, who had pinched her nose as she made her way out, on the phone once more for whatever reason she had.</p>
<p>Minutes later the ambulance had arrived. Assessing the injuries, loading the patient into the van, first-aid where necessary to the party involved, the rigorous process stole the afternoon. A car drive back to central, Lucia and Cody had a refreshment at the back, the chauffeur escorting them back to the office.</p>
<p>“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” She stared at the sunset, declined on the leather seat of the car. </p>
<p>Cody rolled his eyes, there was anticipation to his movement. </p>
<p>“How about— Leaving all the fighting to the MCPD? Y’know.. Be a regular mayor an’ all..” She pushed a smile, a timid anxiety about her friend’s situation. </p>
<p>“I know Haggar wasn’t the same, but, he had years of experience, it was different ‘pared to you.. I’m suggestin’ givin’ it a try, but it’s not my place. I know..” The cop twiddled her fingers. Shrugged in a wary look. </p>
<p>Cody returned the sympathy. He didn’t know what to do, in fact, all of this seemed pointless to the man. He couldn’t understand what was missing, but couldn’t face to bear that her words may be true. </p>
<p>“How’d you be the Mayor, if you got the chance to be one?” He asked. She wasn’t prepared for the rare question, humming in thought.</p>
<p>“Well, I’d rule on my own terms. Whatever clicks and whatever doesn’t. Ensure justice and everything’s in order. Fight for what's right yeah?” </p>
<p>An awry laugh from the mayor, her response appealed to the man. His mouth gaped a yawn, and next to the woman, laid a head on her lap. He prepped himself for slumber.</p>
<p>“Hey, wake me up when we’re there.” Croaked the mayor, gently shutting his eyes. His gel hair bristled against her thighs, the sensation was odd to Lucia, although she didn’t mind it.</p>
<p>“Sleep tight prince.” She snorted, placing his empty soda can within the car door’s compartment. She took another sip of water, pulled out her phone from her jeans. The sun dimmed once more, the city glowed traffic lights. It was gonna be a long drive.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>“I’d rule on my own terms. Whatever clicks and whatever doesn’t. Ensure justice and everything’s in order. Fight for what's right yeah?” </p>
<p>Keys rattled against the apartment door. The vacant house was enough the nostalgia for another night’s rest. He shook his shoes off, slugging towards the balcony. His long-sleeved button up crumpled, the attire asphyxiated his forearms. His pinstripe trousers blotched bloodstains, bagging his feet. It was a loose yet crippling feeling to be in outfit, the fabric’s resistance to his movements became a bother. He stood at the top, the city alive as ever. Her words etched his mind:</p>
<p>“I’d rule on my own terms..”</p>
<p>“Whatever clicks and whatever doesn’t..” </p>
<p>“Fight for what's right yeah?” </p>
<p>A rare occurrence, the mayor had taken the words to heart. He walked back indoors, gazing at the reflection that the moon illuminated on the windowsill. He checked himself once more. He didn’t know what to make of himself, whoever he was, why he was, how he was. All he knew of was the life he had. The fighting, the scrambling, the Mad Gear Gang. The thrills he got landing his fist against the bad guys, the wasted time he spent travelling across the middle of nowhere in the Arctic, with a certain <em> guy. Pandora was it? </em>Wherever everyone else was, it was a faint of hope he thought: That maybe he would see them around again. </p>
<p>The sentimentality of the past, his spirits heightened. Looking towards the man once more, he cuffed his sleeves, loosened the red necktie that choked around his nape. Towards the kitchen, a FedEx box of cutlery and utensils. He pulled out a dagger, unbound by the belt around his waist. A practice swing across the air, flailing the sharp back and forth. A few shanks here and there, he turned the beat back, cranked the tune once more. Business was back up and running.</p>
<p>“Great, now I’ll be needin’ a pipe.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Mayor Be At Your Service?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Order Number 17!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The diner was packed to the brim, a typical, fast-paced Sunday brunch. Regulars crowded the area, from frilly dresses to Sunday bests, music on full blast, the vintage jukebox was hogged by the happy elders of Metro City. Eggs and bacon, english muffins, tumbler glasses of orange juice, Cody relished the feast his old man gifted him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Man, it was a meal.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A few plates in, crumbs caught in the stubble of his chin, Haggar cheered the fellow dancers on the jukebox, it was a social gathering every weekend. Entertainment was nothing to worry about, rarely an expense, but city tradition. A new rope the mayor could come to understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi, moo'over. MCPD comin’ through!” The warm base of a mug had thumped his head, Lucia and a stack of bacon pancakes, a mug avalanche of white froth that one horrifyingly called a cappuccino, the man slid himself closer to the window, making space for his friend to sit. Settled in, she pulled a packet out of her jacket sleeves, an attentive anticipation, Haggar, who laid his eyes on the silly woman, scrunched his face, disappointed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Morgan, yer at a restaurant for godsake, if I'm payin' you better not have that instant ramen crap—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ma'am, I made sure not to fill it to the brim, enjoy yer morning!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Clatter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Lucia clapped in bon appetit. Prepared in advance, the waitress had placed a steaming cup of noodles on their tabletop. A complimentary fork, and now, a complete set of breakfast, she dug in, wiggling around the seating in whatever food heaven she ascended to. The savoury fragrance of beef broth, the torturous slurping of noodles whilst she finished her meal, it tempted the curious prisoner. Preying upon the ramen cup. The 'can-I-have-some?' request. Aware, she had invited space for a fork to enter the tiny feast she had at the diner. The two dosed on the sodium-ridden extra as Haggar palmed his face, they didn't mind. No one was complaining, other than grumpy old Haggar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So Mister Mayor, had a thought bubble 'bout that Shopping District proposal or nah?" She patted the soup off her lips, a pile of serviettes excessively mounted on her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, matter a fact I do."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mm</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Give me a go, I'm all ears." A pleased tune of wonder in Haggar's voice, who moved in closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I've officially decided we'd lay it off." He proposed. Lucia and Haggar nodded in agreement, especially the woman, who knew how quickly things could go south? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"People live there. It's —a disturbance to the said community, families with nowhere to go, can't have that happen. Gotta put the people first." He stammered whatever he could get out of his mind. It was his fists who did the talking, and the idea of being diplomatic and reasonable was as difficult as it sounded. Haggar finished his mug, the blue cop stuffed sugar sachets within her bra.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Welp, it's a democracy kid. Arrange a meeting or two, get the council involved." Haggar returned, solicited feedback from the experienced representative.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, not bothered. Can't-I just putta signature declarin' my—" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gatta respect the law, MC's a democracy." Lucia brusquely interrupted, scraping down as much noodles as she can from her cup. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Pshh. "Officer Morgan, suspicious suspect loitering around west. Over." </span>
  </em>
  <span>The walkie-talkie muffled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh crud, gotta scram." Lucia picked up her gear, the man wriggling himself out with the woman. Not surprised, she gave the man a pat once more, though he had paused in thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, actually. I'll sit this one out. Best to leave it to you, 'Officer Morgan'." The mayor propped himself down. A beam of encouragement as he sent her out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A surprised face, her face shaped in  relief. Then, out she was, the diner doorbell chime of departure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alrighty kid, suit yourself up. Miss Maisy's be waiting for'ya won't she?" Haggar had suggested, wiping down his moustache.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm glad you arrived so early, it's a great start to the week." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scarlet lady was similar to the mayor's maid. It was the littlest of things she was fixed upon— a clean freak all the way. By his coffee table, a couple more FedEx boxes, items sorted in value, size and common use. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She couldn't be kidding</span>
  </em>
  <span>, at this rate he had no need to look after himself, little Miss Marlowe could do all the cleaning if he asked her to. He clenched his fists on his desk, a yawn of boredom. For all his life he did it himself, although having a glance of the dustpan made his muscles deflate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Up, down, left, and right. His chair had a cardio session. Impatient tapping on the desk, another yawn in hopes to get the woman responding. No answer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She couldn't be kidding. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The artificial light was blinding. His office was a doctor's examination room. His eyelids weighed down in resistance. Arms crossed on the table, rested on the desk, Cody dozed off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thud. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes froze open, a pile of papers plopped inconsiderately on the centre of his desk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I heard you had alternate plans, how about assembling the rest of the high council?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"For a simple answer?" He groaned, wishing to get back the nap the lady had snatched. Glasses fogged once again, she wasn't having it either. Neither was he.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We can't afford the nasty press and their media antics. Furthermore, Mayor or not, actions come with consent." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Plop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A breath of setback, it felt as if she gave crayons to a child. She pointed her candle nails along the lined paper. A tutorial, how to write a letter of invitation. Cody cringed, his mind drifted off. Marlowe reminded him of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>guy </span>
  </em>
  <span>he knew, her laser beam eyes burnt the back of his skull in discomfort. The pressure on his back was quadruple of Lucia's bodyweight, hell, the shoulder thing she'd never stop doing was vexing enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another infant sigh, a long groan. It wasn't that difficult, wasn't it? Trembling in the need to get off his chair, a heel impaled the insteps of his shoes. The woman’s hand of support, scrunching the shoulder of his dress shirt. She was not going to budge. He was stuck there. However long it took, Little Miss wanted it done, ASAP.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm telling you, I'm a workin’ class citizen—Gimme a break!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beefy man was in the clutches of the young police officer. Her blue sneakers pinned his body to the concrete. Face fed up, a strange hair-do and black mascara, Lucia wouldn’t budge her leg hold. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It must be a misunderstanding Officer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A woman mediated, it rang a bell of someone she knew in the old days. Skimpy-white, midriff tank top, long brunette locks and a peak cap, she drew nearer to explain the predicament to the woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry for the hustle, I know Abigail’s— Not the most inviting?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Suspicious man they said, posed a public threat. You with him?” Her face was stern, her leg clamping harder on the man’s posterior. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The name’s Roxy. That there’s Abigail, a friend of mine.” She greeted. Taking off the peak cap, she placed it on the tire heap that decorated itself in front of the store. Lucia loosened her grasp, the bulky mime rubbed his head, face puffing in alerting anger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yous’ the new business?” Lucia took her shades off, a walkie-talkie ready for another message. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two nodded, the mime loosening his spiked collar. Lucia could read the Mad Gear armbands, one bulky arm to another.  His friend squeezed his arm in concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When would this all end?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man’s eyes were puffy, his bags were dark circles. The mayor couldn’t bare to pick up the pen once more. The pages he wrote were meaningless scribbles of paper</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Dear this, dear that, kind regards, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wasn’t having it. Although it was the official start of his term, he still couldn’t find a natural rhythm to his job. Deadbeat, in his thirties, doing a job he could care less about. His heart dropped at the close resemblance he had to his Dad,  the same man who had let his family go way before he ended up behind bars. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was everyday going to be like this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He groaned in unmotivation. A growing dissatisfaction for the man who he replaced drew nearby. He wanted to take a walk, a break, just anything to let the man be a prisoner once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man recalled his intern’s coping strategy. Rubber bands and a clip, tie them round and round, knot the ends. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Free handcuffs. </span>
  </em>
  <span>From the office desk, he had replicated the plainly elaborate toy. His wrists cuffed together, </span>
  <em>
    <span>snap. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit.” He cursed, the skin branded his wrists red from the thwack of the elastic. Recovering from the sudden shock, he struck hammer fists onto the express office desk, pulling his hair with the lack of attention span he had for the monotonous job. It drove him crazy. A tainted smile, he wanted to go to prison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Startin’ to think deskwork isn’t my thing..” He slumped, sneaking a nap before the lady arrived. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Vroom, vroom. Clang. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The police officer sat herself a tour inside the store. Whether it was a tattoo shop, an underground arena, or a cyclist’s motif to the shop, it screamed steampunk. The smell of diesel, an exhibit shelf of suspended tires and scrap metal, it paid tribute to the Skull Cross Gang. Lucia hardly remembered the thrills of fighting it all, except of how far she went with legs and a firestarter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two were part of the Gang that ruled MC back then, yeah?” Lucia peeled skin off a banana, the three had a fruit break at the backdoor kitchen by the store counter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seemingly confidential, the two shared regards, a gesture of agreement with their heads. Roxy barely touched her food, spectating the man who had engulfed the fresh produce like a tank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Every engine’s gotta break some time, Roxy and I’s tired of the gang. Wanna devote me self to mechanical engineering.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With </span>
  <em>
    <span>a tire shop huh?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gee, you two’ve grown.” Lucia wiped her chin, she couldn’t help the gleaming smile she had for the two ex-members. The Mad Gear days were behind them, and although there were always gonna be the countless gang members on the run, it was the step forward she wanted to hear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for the rundown, I suggest signing up for a business warrant to handle any problems in the future.” She informed the two tycoons. Scribbling down her findings on a small notepad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘hired’</span>
  </em>
  <span> a friend of mine to handle that actually..” Roxy prompted. “Best business and entertainment manager we know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mm! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You two could be on the same lane.” Abigail added on. “Wrestling and punk rock gigs her fave.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ding. Ding. Ding. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Air rushed by the swing of a door, the tinkling sound of the store’s service bell. Then, the ominous clicking of heels. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They had forgotten to close up the store. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In proximity it went, quaint steps as it loitered around the campus. With as little sound, the three stood up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was time to apprehend the suspect. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The mime had taken the lead, ensuring the two women were safe. Protected by one more door, with as little a gape of what was outside the back, Roxy’s legs shivered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Creeeeeak. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A fruity scent, led itself to a white sleeveless cocktail dress, versace shades and a lavishly dressed pink-haired mistress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yoo-hoo, yours truly has arrived. Why’d you two keep me waiting?~”   </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Throwbacks By The Bayside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Damn. That hurt!" </p><p>"Careful. You wouldn't want it to get worse, do you?"</p><p>“Tsk, these bastards are gonna pay!”</p><p>“Boys.”</p><p>The blue wraps were blotched in the man's blood. Clutching the gash that landed on his forearm, what appeared beer shards stuck to his skin. Another one of Mad Gear’s cheap tricks. Cody winced at the ugly sight, there was no other option but to stick it out, at least for now. Haggar tightened the trembling gash from what he could make of the wrap. The ninja following the two behind, closer towards the next cheap hostel they could stay in. Before Sunrise, it was going to be over for what they did to the poor girl. And they were gonna pay, hard.</p><p>"Aw shucks, you didn't have to." </p><p>Cody patted the shower water off his honey blonde hair, half-naked with an ugly wound, his package was barely covered from the room service towels, the hand towel just making its way around his nape. They could only afford a double room at the shabby hostel, double beds rammed against its outdated walls.  </p><p>The ninja sat by the railings of the bed, legs crossed on the floor, not a trace of touch on the beer pack by the service fridge. A waste of an opened beer bottle for the taking, the shower man had limped his way down the carpet, swooping the bottle with the undamaged hand. Cody bit his lip, tonguing the head of the bottle before taking a swig. The pleasurably burning sensation rushed down his throat, just enough to spare him some convenience for what was to come next. The ninja nodded, taking an antiseptic solution out of his pockets. He placed a firm grasp on the man's forearm, lightly damping the cotton off the excess blood. The man shivered once more, his skin felt as if its blood was going to burst out of his body, if it stung this much on cotton, antiseptics were going to be worse. </p><p>"Never knew they'd shank me with a  bottle."</p><p>"A broken one as well, it was strategic of you to utilise the tougher parts of the body to fend them off."</p><p>"What can I say? I'm a natural." Cody bluffed, the man clenched a smile, groaning as the liquid had splashed on his wound. Guy was unshaken by the flinching man. At worst, had applied a copious amount on the gash, circular motion on the shard marks in cotton.</p><p>"Yeah, sure." Guy fixed his eyes on the wound. Ensuring the gauze was secured properly on the man's lacerations. "Don't move." </p><p>"Whatever, boss." The hooligan smirked, a hand wrapped around the shoulder of his comrade, Guy jolted when the man squeezed his shoulder. Deltoids were far from the perfect stress ball. Cody's head shifted towards the ninja's weight, if he could smuggle just one more nap before the heist, he'd be fine.</p><p>…</p><p>"Cody, wake up."</p><p>The baseball mitt that was Haggar's hands jabbed his head. Face to face, seated towards the mayor, Haggar's lips drooped a nervous smile.</p><p>"What's going on my boy?" </p><p>Cody couldn't wrap his head around it. The mayor rubbed his wakening eyes, the weight he burdened cuffed a chain that dragged him by the legs. It was the binding freedom he held in his own hands, one that he desperately wanted to shake off. No matter how much of an act he could put out, Haggar saw the anguish right through his face. <em> Did he do something wrong? Was it ever supposed to turn out like this? </em> The shared silence between them, the man's glaring eyes haunted the ex-mayor. A lack of resistance, Haggar's bulky arms squeezed the mayor firmly. <em> Anything he could do </em> to give the man warmth, to let him know he was there. <em> Anything </em> but the nightmare he suffered in prison.</p><p>There was a loss of words. Cody was absolute zero; still, motionless, indifferent. It was that grey cloud that hovered above the mayor, a shadow that took place in his body. Haggar drenched in the midst of it all. <em> What happened?  </em></p><p>
  <em> What happened? </em>
</p><p>"Being Mayor's not the right fit?</p><p>"Nah, it's the deskwork. The whole proposal, the management of it, I always had a bad feelin' bout that CEO Joe." The words fell out of Cody's mouth, a stammer but a start, he scrunched the few documents off his table. "I was thinking— How bout' those people lurking round the slums an' all? If I'm Mayor innit my duty to make them first priority?" </p><p>The podium raised higher, Cody stood up from his seat. What laid in front of Haggar was more than the remains of the vigilante fighter. It was the ignition of a flame, so little but enough hope for the future. <em> Could he really bring back the same man that he fought alongside with? The same one who loved his daughter passionately? </em> </p><p>Haggar ruffled the man’s hair. He was thinking too seriously, but it was a progress closer to the down-to-earth of an airhead his son-in-law used to be. <em> Maybe he wasn’t so wrong at all. </em>The older man combed his hair back in place, readjusted the folds of the younger man’s dress shirt. In the lounge area there was a mahogany holdall bag that rested atop the coffee table. Sitting in front of the Mayor’s express desk, he brought out what appeared a flattened computer, a few programs opened, it proposed a solution to his writing dilemma. </p><p>“How’bout I give you a tour around what we call the web?” </p><p>“Man, that's a flat computer..” Cody squeezed his eyes, dumbfounded.</p><p>“It's a laptop, and <em> also, these </em> are office tools sonny, Marlowe would give a crash course on em but the bundle cost heaps."</p><p>Cody test drived the strange device. His hands were doubled the size of its keyboard, <em> they weren’t kidding when they said technology was evolving. </em> Haggar lent a hand as he showed ropes around the desktop, <em> The Big Brown Fox Jumped Over the Lazy Dog.. The Big Brown Fox Jumped Over the Lazy Dog.. </em>Cody could barely type with fingers that took the space of a three-key radius, but alas, his wrists were saved. </p><p>“Your tellin’ me Marlowe made me write for nothin’?” </p><p>“Boy, writing’s still important on the job. Later on, it’s signatures and contract slips you’ll have to manage before transcribing it on ‘ere…” Haggar twisted the stache on his face. The question was no laughing matter, but it was amusing the innocent hatchling Cody was to the new world around him. “Welcome to the Online World my boy.”</p><p>“Online world huh, that's kinda cool..”</p><p>Cody flushed. He felt years older than the geezer he spoke to; who was up to date with the trend way more than he was. It was impressive. Back then, it was the static of old-style televisions and Internet cafes by the arcade to connect to the web. Climbing up high ground for cell towers, or the privilege of a home landline to answer calls.  Now, it was a virtual reality of digital media, a cyber world he wasn’t accustomed to. A smile crept on his face, then, a strong shove on the shoulders of his father-figure.</p><p>"Hey, teach me more about this online desk-amacallit."</p><p>"Sure, try-ta start with that said proposal you were yappin' about." Haggar suggested, he pulled the swivel chair next to the seated man, the jailbird enticed as his eyes paced the chemical light that was the screen. </p><p>Hopefully, he'd still have his computer by the end of the lesson.</p><p>—</p><p>"So, lo~ove what you've done with the place."</p><p>The mistress had a strong strawberry scent, signatured on her brand as she strutted along the exhibit of the two shopkeepers. The pair of versace on her eyes were a difficult read for the cop to make out an intention, the creases of her lips a vague otherwise. Drooping downwards, the slightly bent hunch, she was asking for something, and although Lucia could press on, she observed the woman.</p><p>"<em> Great </em>, it's a cop."</p><p>"Nothing wrong! She was just here to help.." Roxy explained, the two women were linking arms, there seemed a playful sisterhood between Roxy and Poison, faint giggles here and there.</p><p>"Officer Morgan." She welcomed a hand, which met the firm cuticles of the woman's nails. "Special Crimes Unit, just making sure no one's up to any trouble."</p><p>"Trouble you say? Dear, the set's empty, you can run along now." The mistress dismissed, the cop couldn't tell if the smile on her face was patronising or of good nature. Lucia's fists clenched, her cheeks felt a helpless rosy. Poison was right though, she did have no further investigation to undergo. Wary, she tipped her cap goodbye, strolling the coast further by the waves of the bayside around the end of the block.</p><p>
  <em> She wasn't gonna let them off that easy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> — </em>
</p><p>“I’m glad you’re here to help.” </p><p>Poison sat by the metal bench, looking up and down the stature of the muscle mime. Holding her cherry clutch, she glimpsed a forlorn frown on her phone, the lockscreen of a larger man, long hair, wrestler esque, that seated the woman her rightful throne by his palms behind a boxing ring. <em> Those were the days </em> she told herself, she could remember the deafening blast of speakers and concert rock and roll while the two Ansatsukens sparred. </p><p>She shook her head, undoing the ribbon that bound her locks. Her mane frizzed the second of breaktime, standing up, she undid her belt. The strip of leather mechanically done itself into a cord, a hand-made whip. Standing a stadium roar, she pointed at the knucklehead. </p><p>“Abigail!”</p><p>“Vrrr.. Vrrr..! Huh?”</p><p><em> Whack. </em>The mime backed away, the concrete met the smack of a whip, elongating just half the man’s height. </p><p>“Heh heh, Abigail~. You look like you’re still in fighting shape.” A wide grin, Abigail knew the challenge the starlet was aiming for. He backed a ready stance, Poison’s lash ready to strike once more. </p><p><em> Whip! </em>The range of her lash whipped a slight reaction from his legs. </p><p>Abigail continued to defend, but the pressure blazed his body on fire, his fists pummeled punches.</p><p>
  <em> Thwack! Smack!  </em>
</p><p>“Dance for Me!” <em> Oraaaaa!  </em></p><p>Abigail stumbled, managing to land only a few hits on the starlet. Confuzzled, Abigail couldn’t find the woman, neither could his comrade, who had searched her surroundings but a whip rested on the slab of concrete. </p><p>“Vraa! Huh, where’d she go?” </p><p>“Um..” The tycoon’s eyes widened, a pair of white stilettos landed on the shoulders of the mime’s back, her ankles around his neck, she locked a twist as she flipped the man face first onto the floor. Her knees landing elegantly and effortlessly on the floor. </p><p>“Alright Abigail, I’ll give you a passing grade. As of today, you’re on tour with me!”</p><p>“Eh? On tour with you?”</p><p>“Whaaaat?! What do you mean, Poison? What happened to Hugo?” Roxy defended the mime as he recovered from the slam, bewildered by the lady’s proposal. </p><p>A frisky shrug, as if it wasn’t much to ask. She took of her tints, arranging the whip back onto her dress. </p><p>“Hmph! That coward ran off in the middle of seeking our dream. Who cares about him?” She turned her back on the two, picking her clutch off the bench. “I know Abigail has more guts, so he’ll take my offer!” </p><p>Roxy folded her arms. She wasn’t satisfied, neither was her colleague, his face seemed a bomb ready to detonate. “But you know Poison, The Boss has been working really hard running—”</p><p>“Abigail doesn’t have the smarts to be a Boss.”</p><p>“Urrrrrrah! What makes you think you can just show up here and talk to me like that?!” Abigail shrieked, he was pissed off his rockers, veins clenching through this throat. Roxy held his arm back. </p><p>“Poison, Abigail’s working very hard to manage the shop!” The daisy duke was as infuriated as the mime, although attempting to reason with her over-the-top offer. “He can even smile at the customers like a real businessman!”</p><p>“Brah brah brah braahh!!!” He escaped her grasp, ready to pounce on the woman. The woman was taken aback, taking a few steps to defend herself. Roxy interrupted.</p><p>“Hey Boss! Show us a good business smile!”</p><p>“...!”</p><p>“W-Welcome to our shop.. N-n-nice..customer.” His jaws clenched, a quaking grin as his eyebrows struggled to manage his temper. </p><p>Poison was disappointed, but she knew she couldn’t do much. She laughed the tension off her body, her shoulders hunched the rejection. She firmly gripped both their hands. </p><p>“I’m sorry, you two. I was being selfish..” Her eyes downcast, lips puckered. “I’m sure you’ll be a great business owner. Take care of Roxy, Boss Man.”</p><p><em> Rattle. </em>The officer held handcuffs as she took out her baton. </p><p>“Ahem. Metro City Police.” Lucia eyed the mistress. “Um.. I’m here because I received— A report! That the junk shop was being attacked by a thug..”</p><p>“U-Uh, yeah.. I appreciate you coming by Officer.” Roxy bit her nails, Poison flinched at the cold metal that held her wrist. “There’s no need to worry, we were just having a “conversation” about.. The good old days.”</p><p>“Hmph.” Poison snatched the cuffs off Lucia’s hands. Clanging it onto the floor. </p><p>“O-Officer, we’ll just leave her to you.” Abigail patted Lucia’s shoulders, a slight spring to her back of the man’s heavy hands. </p><p>A temporary goodbye, Roxy and Abigail headed back into the shop. Lucia invited the woman to sit on the bench, scavenging a Pink Lady Lemonade and a Sparkling water on her way to a vending machine. </p><p>
  <em> — </em>
</p><p>“Hmm. You know, you remind me of a man I fought..” Lucia attempted to sit next to the woman, a microshove, she sat by the edge of the seat, her usual slump as always. “Didn’t you go on tour trying to make some pro-wrestling organisation? You and that big guy, wasn’t he named.. Hugo?”</p><p>“Hmph.” Poison sighed, although no one was around, the woman didn’t need to reveal her information at the get-go. </p><p>“Ah-ha, it doesn’t take a detective to realise that you guys had a falling out.” Lucia thought loudly to herself, taking a sip of her water. “Hey, watch it now. I don’t want any trouble..”</p><p>The pink-haired woman laughed to herself, gulping as much of the Lemonade out of her bottle. “Even if I wanted to make trouble, it wouldn’t help at all..” She bowed her head down, Lucia placed a firm grasp on her shoulder, though the woman wouldn’t take the gesture either. “There are some things we just can’t control..” </p><p>Lucia rubbed the red mark on the back of her hand, <em> she had to stop placing hands on people’s shoulders. </em>“You could be born to a rich family, or to a family living in a garbage dump.. M-Man or woman, you can’t choose how you’re born into this world..”</p><p>“I mean, look at Hugo. He’s a big blockhead who has no ability except to beat people up. He was born to a fate of always fighting.” She placed a hand over her eye, wiping what seemed irritated or tearful off her face. </p><p>A mournful smile, the pink-haired starlet didn’t budge this time, letting the cop pull her closer to her warmth, Lucia put her cap over the woman’s head, respecting her need to gloom. </p><p>“Yeah… I think I get what yer sayin’. In fact, I think our mayor is kinda the same way.” Lucia contributed. She swung gently, side to side as if she was a rocking boat, one that gently skimmed through the sea. “In fact, if you know him, Cody Travers is the mayor now, the one that got arrested for over a decade..” </p><p>An idea sprung to Poison’s mind, although she was surprised how things turned out. “Bullshit, you’re tellin’ me someone like him took on the mayor’s job?!” Poison could almost snicker, her cheeks turned a bright red. </p><p>“I don’t know, it just kinda happened actually..” Lucia twirled her side bangs, she could relate though. <em> There were better people out there for the election. Why him?  </em></p><p>“Hmph, it’s been years since the whole fiasco. He seein’ anyone at the moment?” </p><p>“Huh?! I don’t know actually….” Lucia turned away, her grip weakened from the woman as she attempted to recollect herself. She didn’t know the two would ever make a couple. </p><p>“Well, there’s Haggar’s daughter of course.. I think?” The cop folded her arms in thought. “They were the power couple of the old times if I could remember, Jessica wazzit?”</p><p>Poison shrugged her arms, standing up as she patted the creases off her dress. </p><p>“A lady’s gotta try something once in her life, you know?” Poison stood tall, Lucia following after. </p><p>“Heard she’s gone to study abroad, probably a sorority at best, but then again, just some juicy gossip.” </p><p>Lucia took the two glasses with her, jingling her car keys as the two prepared a departure. </p><p>“If you do wanna catch up some time,  feel free to come by the MCPD. It’s just a few streets away from the Bay.” </p><p>Poison threw her hands a departure, making her way towards the scrap metal store. Lucia saluted, running along to her car. </p><p>She twisted the keys to pedal on the accelerator, ready to drive back to the city council. The rooftop flashing lights on low beam as it illuminated the Metro City Bay Area. She wondered how her friend was holding up with the proposal.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope everyone is doing well! SARS, MERS and Influenza be jealous of Corona, and everything's shut down here at my country. Hope to have everyone stay safe during this period of time, I wish I could give everyone a quarantine hug rn 😘 Lucky Metro City here be vibin' cuz Corona be non-existent.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Now's A Time for Brooding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzz, bzzt. Bzz, bzzt. Bzz, bzzt.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was barely anyone by the bullpen at sundown, the main entrance desolate to a smack of police officers roaming around the back staff lounge. Lucia strolled into the locker room, unpacking her tactical gear as she plopped her equipment into their allocated compartments. She was way past her shift hours as a casual overnight officer; she wasn't fond of game night get-togethers and would rather sleep her ten hours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>En garde to the staff kitchen, her sneakers squeaked an unholy screech against the granite flooring, nowhere was there an attempt to walk with courtesy. The senior officers by the lounge could feel the deafening screech ring within their skulls, grunting as they continued about their conversations. She fiddled the packet of condiments she left by the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil a hundred. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzz, bzzt. Bzz, bzzt.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bzz, bzzt. Bzz, bzzt.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you for reachin' the MCPD, this is Officer Morgan speaking.."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucia, glad you answered. I need you to come by."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ugh, what now?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When was he gonna get off this thing? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The state-of-the-art apartment was far from lofty, the IKEA dining already scrambled with the few boxes of Chinese take-out Haggar had ordered. The butcher block countertops, wafted with the smell of microwave potstickers, the ruffian had terrorised the predestined plans his father-figure ought to renovate. Brooklyn bottle by the mockelby, beef stir-fry left hand, Cody had grown accustomed to the flattened computer Haggar had introduced. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Laptop was it? </span>
  </em>
  <span>And by the looks of it, he was far from letting go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the end of the mockelby table, the father sat postured on the community folding chair, the remaining shipments for the dining set were due in a few weeks. Whatever notes he had going on, they were muddled onto the tabletop; agreements, notices,  legal documents, digitising the copies was a longer stretch with the tyrant stationed at his desktop. Reaching his smartphone, the digital clock agreed it was dead night, he awaited a clinking, a buzz, any sort of action, anything to get the man up and running. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vzzzzt. Vzzzzt. From the end of the corridor, right past the impromptu bedroom that was supposed to be the living room, the glossy door phone lit up an achromatic hue, the centre of the light illuminating a fluorescent blue. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She finally found it. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Cody, mind if ya get the door?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A second delay, he stretched his arms off the table, walking towards the source of light against the suite walls. He peeked into the small screen, greeted to the needless cleavage shot of a busty woman. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Haggar? You in there?” The cleavage had zoomed out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was the officer—</span>
  <em>
    <span> wait, the officer? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Unfamiliar with the woman’s build, he rubbed his eyes once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, mister camera man... Hey, it’s glowing!  Are you letting me in or not?” The woman tapped the screen, she had brought yet again, another cup of ramen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Crap, I forgot to boil the water. For the love of York please stall her.” Haggar paced to the countertop kettle, eyes awaiting the criminal's signal. Whether or not he’d follow the man’s wishes, his mind felt apart from his body, his fingers just hovering the door phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Lucia. How do I get this thing workin’?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Man, you really got some nerve telling the head of the Special Crimes Unit to ‘chillax’.” Lucia snorted, there was a giddy quality to her words, forking the steaming noodles on her side of the dining table. Up the butcher countertop, Haggar placed the laptop in its charcoal casing. Papers clipped, shoes untied, he walked to the Kathmandu camping isle that was the living room, resting on what he could make of the folding camping chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gee, you really got this place sorted out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For real, Lucia? The boy's got housekeeping to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you don't like it then deal with it, it's fine just the way it is." The mayor hunched, munching the remaining stir-fry of whatever sauce was left at the bottom of the box.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The savoury meal had made its way onto the woman's nose, as he</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> scoffed the serving, she eyed the prestigious manufacturing label that branded its box. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, Dim Sum Palace. Innit that store that renovated a couple-months-ago Uptown?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Right. Ever since the reform of the Uptown Plaza everythin's changed for the better. Businesses come and go as the days go by.." Haggar mumbled, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, but if yer interested, 'specially </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cody.." The man faced the dining members. "Heard around town, there's presumably a professional fighting club moving in from the East."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mayor kept his eyes on the counter, tapping his knuckles on the planked wood. It was a monotonic rhythm, devoid of a presence into reality. Haggar's lips curled an unsteady grin, clenching the collars of his shirt. The cop followed an eyebrow, hovering a hand over the man's duke blue eyes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what was there to think about</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, my bad." The man waved her hand away. "Nuff chit-chat, but I got lost on the proposal. Mind if I give it another go on that device you got there?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucia felt a creeping sensation on her back, what felt the tiny crawls of arachnids tingled her body. The atmosphere was tense, and both Haggar and his protege were at loss of words. The low stuttering of the older man, there was something important about the laptop that signalled not now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody unraveled the device out of its casing, ensuring his hand wouldn't crush the fragile item.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"H-Hey— Proposal! Din't know you had the framework down so quickly. How bout tellin' me and old Mike here 'bout what you plannin' for the city?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Heh, I'll spill it after it's done, just go ahead and enjoy the night officer." He tugged firmy against her grasp, a tug-o-war arising the dining area.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I insist, it's still on low charge… I think." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tugged harder, the woman returning the force back. "Well, we have those charge-ma-jiggies for a reason? I can stand for a little while."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cody, you're with family. Come on, I wanna know more about this—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> about my family." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His leg swooped past the woman's shin, unfortunately taking the laptop down with her. There was no mistake to the incident, her knee bruised against the broken shards of the laptop. The woman looked up top the man. Flinching, picking herself up with no regard for the mayor who planted her onto the ground. Frantically putting the hardware together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A slow thunder towered over the mayor. The father proceeded towards the scene, helping the woman up. Cody stood upon the two associates. His eyes rested, the bags under its eyes, shades darker. He did what he could to escape the tension.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whoops." His face stretched dimples. The woman's legs were restless, her body felt the blood boiling within her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucia, leave him alone." Haggar said. Making what he could out of the fresh junk. "Jess is not gonna love the news knowin her pop couldn't keep a present fer'more than a year.." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What the—Come on, say something!" The cop demanded, her hands pressed deep into the man's shoulders, shoving him, pushing him, but there was a little reward to its pushback. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please. Just.. Anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She talked to a monument. Those eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was always those damn eyes. She hated them, she hated how they stared at her. They mocked her and pushed her feet underground. It ridiculed her. It disrespected her. It was always those damn eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could smell the lingering petrol of carpet smoke that emanated from her sneakers. The woman stormed out the winding corridor, leaving Haggar, the man, and an old cup of noodles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucia— wait! Don't go just yet." Haggar followed shortly, clutching the largest remains of the laptop he could carry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry about her. I'll be right back, boy." The footsteps lost audacity, spiralling down the staircase. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Haggar. I mean— Mike. Why'd he? Why'd he—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Metro City never slept at night. Outside the apartment complex, the clouds brewed a storm that had no mercy both businessmen or the leisurely. The cold breeze brushed both the woman who stood outside her ford, and the man she could see feet far from the streetlight. He walked past the brick building, the crunching steps of leaves as he made his way across the complex street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sky had shaded grey, an overcast night that left a piercing winter air. The woman took comfort in her vest, hugging herself as she sat in the comfort of her car seat. Haggar stood by the car door, greeted by the reeling windows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucy, you know he didn't mean that." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mike, I know I overreacted, but I gotta be honest. I could give two less toots about that flat screen. It's about Cody. He's.. He's—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Changed, I know." Haggar’s head hung down. He could relate to that feeling, he knew it ever since they put him behind bars. "Cody's not the same, I get it. But Lucia, it's gonna take some time and if you can..Please.." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please be patient with him. Just— let him make these mistakes." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The windows pattered the droplets of rain, as she opened the car door, she could feel her skin freeze as the warmth escaped into the outdoors. The man wasn’t going to be there for long, but the best he could, his arms squeezed a tender hug that wasn’t going to let go of the cop. Whatever was to come, maybe he was wrong all along. That same man who loved his daughter, he's gone. That son he never had, the one he used to be on such bad terms with, he wasn't that sour bastard who entered his life on whims to date his daughter for money. He was a dear friend. And he knew that within that kid, it screamed for something. Whatever that was, he was going to get to the bottom of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man nervously laughed, letting go of the woman’s coat that crumpled beneath his grasp. Her car navigator was enough to let him know his time was up for tonight. The man sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess people change, don't they?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess you’re right.. This is gonna get hard to get used to.." The woman threw the cackle back, parting ways with the man as she revved the engine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A salute, the car made its way back to the city. The man walked back to the door phone, buzzing to the upstairs mayor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cody, let me in."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cody. Cody!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alas, no response from the other side. It was a late suburban night, rain over the city, the sounds of passing cars and what was barely streetlights, the possibility of reaching someone this night out was impossible. Haggar creased his face, mashing the button of the door phone on whatever was on the other side of the building. He couldn’t be doing this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s a thirty year old man for god sake, and for the love of god, he hoped that the criminal could find a way to solve the predicament.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Haggar checked his pockets, only in the company of his cellphone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But the keys. The goddamn keys.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man shifted his eyes around the surroundings, from what he could make of the irish streetlamps, he found a leverage on what appeared botanical grounds outside the complex. Standing by an ornamental stepping stone, his retinas scanned for any trace of light, he could hardly balance on the muddied surroundings, but from afar, just the tiniest glint of light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That must be Cody.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cody, Cody!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The name echoed from one ear, out another. What rained nuts and bolts, the criminal’s eyes were fixated on the laptop, and from a quick snatch it was in the trash. Single-handedly cleaning after the living space, from finishing leftover ramen to chipped wood counter, he felt a tender pain on his shin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was almost automatic to get the area back into shape. Staring into the voids of the walls, fixated on the smallest of details, cleaning felt an eternity, and was dead weight that served no challenge for the man. His mouth urged a yawn, but he couldn’t let that happen. His body begged for rest, but he couldn’t let that happen. What was he expecting? What was there to happen? The man turned off the lights, letting the moon and the joy of the concrete jungle to offer him his night light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sleeping on the planks, the floor built for comfort yet so cold, it was as if his body conflicted on the state of rest or wakefulness. The man couldn’t get shuteye, the static ambience of the world around him felt still, but it was a nothingness that provided nothing more than what fed to his bubbling aggression. He squeezed his eyes, so hard he hoped for the new day to rise. Why can’t he sleep? Why were his eyes so wet? Why was his breathing so shaky? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From a floor mat as sleeping gear, the man pulled his mayorly coat off the camping chair. Shuteye or not, it wasn’t going to get in his way from resting. From the faint light, he reached for the beer pack by the kitchenside, guzzling as much as he could of the burning liquid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weight rested one foot more than the other, a smile eased upon his face, he could feel the temperature rising at the bottom of his throat. Back to the floor, the man collapsed onto the planks, parting with the night. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Two Can Play At That Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Whack. Slam. </em>
</p>
<p>“Don’t resist, Metro City Police Department’s got you surrounded, punk!”</p>
<p>“What? Let me go! I have nothing to do with that <em> fucking </em>organisation! You got the wrong guy.”</p>
<p>His face was on the verge of a grater. Arrested onto the floor, alone without a sight of a witness. The heavy duty cop’s eyes sneered rotten with bad intention. With every resistance, every flinch, the middle aged man would smudge his hands deeper onto the surface of the floor, Cody's face victim to the jagged edges of the concrete, one that had dripped with the scratches of his blood. </p>
<p>“Haggar! Guy! J-Jess-icaaa! Anyone, help!” He cried.</p>
<p>“Don’t make it harder than it has to be!” The cop jerked the man’s neck, a resonant crackling that left the younger man in agony. The man was battered, his navel writhed with the hard impact of the boots that kicked him in the gut. His face, swollen purple with fresh bruises, the lines of crimson that marked both his face and his white t-shirt, now dirtied with the shameful smell of alleyway dumpster. <em> Edi. E, </em>the man responsible for his fall, his face curled with satisfaction. Proud of his accomplishment, triumphant in his catching. </p>
<p>“You really got the nerve to loiter around the Boss’s turf, ay?” Edi E. had snickered. “You don’t realise how much money was in it for me!” He couldn’t realise how badly the young boy wanted to land a fist to his face. His blue wraps were of no more support for his knuckles, but he didn’t care. His heart horribly ached, his body quivered a million bolts. He had to do something, he couldn’t go down. <em> Not this way.  </em></p>
<p>“Man, you know what you’re doing is wrong. Let me out! I’ll fucking beat you up if you don’t.. I swear!” </p>
<p>“God, you talk way too much.”</p>
<p>Had he realised <em> the weight that took off his torso? </em>The pair of black boots were off his body. It was rage that stripped him blind off the opportunity. The same pair was raised up towards the man, and from that one swing, he could foresee what was going to happen to him. </p>
<p>THWACK.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>“Urgh. Fuck..”</p>
<p>The hazy morning sun rose upon the mayor’s face. He could hardly see from the blinding light. The man’s back, a dull and aching pain. His muscles weren’t coping with the hard surface he slept on, tilting his head towards the ceiling. His temples clenched his skull, getting up from the floor, his vision closed in on him, he was stunned. </p>
<p>His heart over beat, his legs shook standing up. It took the sounds of running water to make him freeze. Straight towards the hall, right where the bedrooms were supposed to be, the bathroom door was closed, the light open as if he had a roommate. </p>
<p>The man took the rustic pipe that hung nearby the kitchen counter, it appeared there was someone who had broken in, <em> but the door without a scratch? </em> Batter’s grip as he slowly approached the washroom. </p>
<p>“Goodness! Cody, hey, I’m here.” </p>
<p>Lucia’s hands held onto his pipe. Her hair just past her shoulder and frizzed of bedhead. On her lips pursed a hair tie, and her hands, disarming the man’s weapon. </p>
<p>“Sorry bout breakin in, Haggar got a locksmith here b‘fore the afternoon.”</p>
<p>“That’s— nice. Urgh, crap. I got work today don’t I?”</p>
<p>“Hey, it’s all good. Haggar’s been talking with Marlowe about that actually.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean, ‘about’?” The mayor grew suspicious. Lucia although, was prepared for that reaction, patting his back after tying her hair back to place.</p>
<p>“Don’t sweat it Mistah mayor, I’m bored as you are.” Lucia snickered. He snorted at her remark, grinning to himself one that Lucia found admiring. He’s not as unpredictable as he makes himself to be. </p>
<p>“Anyways, since today’s a free day, I’ve scheduled a playdate.. Might help you come around.” </p>
<p> “Gee, we’ve only united since my inauguration and yer already askin’ me out on a date..”</p>
<p>The woman giggled, pulling her cap onto his head with a playful force. <em> He was as blunt as always. </em> Pleased with the chilling warmth of having a friend back. This time, she had placed her hands thrice the force and momentum onto his back in friendly gusto. </p>
<p>“By the way, you stink. Take a shower or somethin’.”</p>
<p>“Ah, fuck you.. Fine.” He shrugged a laugh, entering the bathroom, the bathroom with her <em> beloved </em>hat.</p>
<p>“Aww crap! You fartbag, gimme tha—”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>“Really now? There must be a way to settle this out… What do you <em> mean </em> you can’t run a pro-wrestling gig with a one-woman army? Uh-huh, yes.. I know.. The gang’s been in the hospital, well? They won’t <em> magically </em> get better! … Listen up, I can wrestle <em> and </em>manage!” </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, but it won’t cut out. The concert’s dying to meet that burly friend of yours on the ring. We can reschedule sometime this year bu—”</p>
<p>"Oh scram! I've heard enough." </p>
<p>
  <em> Beep. </em>
</p>
<p>Back from scratch, Poison never knew she'd come back to this wretched town. Pearl bathrobe draped against her skin, mani-pedis done fashionably, the mistress was staying at the mime's house as she got her life together. The wood on her chair didn't appreciate the scratching of nails, her face felt acne breakout as she scrolled through her phone gallery. </p>
<p>"God, I miss that stupid potato.." </p>
<p>The woman saw herself in the presence of her phone, a time where Hugo boosted her up on his shoulders, an arm throne backstage the wrestling ring of their last gig. He was faithful at her side as they reached towards their dream, and having him gone had left a gap in her heart. Her two friends, busy on the next big thing they had going on, <em> prisoners suddenly taking on roles like the mayor. </em>She could sigh as heavy as she could and make a scene, but ultimately it wasn't worth the trouble.</p>
<p>She could only move forward and do what she's got to do. </p>
<p>"Hey Poison, you sent our apartment address to the police officer from yesterday did you?” Roxy asked, her black office top failing to hide the copious stains of car petrol smudged rear to front. Early afternoon, she had been working as hard as her respective blockhead, sweat running down her forehead as they managed to get an oil tank repaired from the junkyard.</p>
<p>“Don’t sweat it hun, she’s a good girl.” Poison shrugged off, a smile crept her face. “And if she’s naughty, I think both of us know the taste of my whip..” </p>
<p>Roxy giggled. “Ever since what happened, I don’t think it’s right to really beat her up anymore.”</p>
<p>“I know, but the thrill of it, Roxy!” The mistress brightened. Her lips shined in the sunlight, but Roxy knew there was grey in her valor. </p>
<p>“You know, I don’t mind dressing up for a show.” Roxy reassured, squeezing the woman’s hands as she caressed her cuticles. “I still have the fight in me, even if Mad Gear’s been long gone.” </p>
<p>“Mhm, I know.” Poison clasped her hand, reaching her shoulders for a gentle smooch on the cheek. Roxy returned the gesture, firmly wrapped her weight on the other woman's body. “I don’t mind giving a sister a makeover, furthermore, I think you’d make a great Star Guest.” </p>
<p>The woman having a moment,  Abigail had been present in the scene, unaware of how to read the two. </p>
<p>“So— Which one of you brought friends on the job?” He firmly asked. The two squeaked, holding each other at the sound of his voice. </p>
<p>“Hmm, that was me, Boss Man.” Poison letting go to walk towards him, allowing him to lead the way through the well-rustic apartment suite. No shame, she let her hand talk as she halted before the door, stripping her bathrobe off her body. She had walked towards the wooden cabinet, fetching on an oversized crew shirt and left-over booty shorts.</p>
<p>“Heeey, policewoman and not-so-sus man at yer door. Open up or you’ll spend a night at the slammer.” Lucia grinned. She was accompanied by a taller and bulkier man, who wasn’t so pleased with her behaviour. </p>
<p>“Ah, Lucia honey, welcome.” Poison’s eyes widened, almost snorting at the B-BOY next to the woman. “Nice fur coat, where’d you get it, the thrift store? </p>
<p>“Vroom, that man next to ya’s the mayor isn’t it? What’s with the outfit? He looks like a mugger!” The mime blatantly spoke out. The three women burst in laughter, Cody not so happy about being the butt of the joke. The cop ruffled the fur coat around her shoulder in glee, taking the thrift store shades off of the mayor. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Nice place you got here.” Cody shrugged. He took off the dirty coat as he entered indoors. The air reeked of car oil, although one with a floral undertone.</p>
<p>The scandalous woman wrapped her tongue around the lining of her lips. Lucia caught on.</p>
<p>“Hey. You, me, let’s catch up.” Poison demanded. Aware, the cop nodded in respect to her decisions, patting the back of the man once more. </p>
<p>“Roxy, Abigail? Y’all need any help with anything?”</p>
<p>“Oh! Really? If you can, then sure!”</p>
<p>“Vrr, we would have been done earlier if <em> someone </em> wasn’t <em> busy </em>on their phone!” </p>
<p>“Oh whatever! I was busy with business calls, doing my nails was an added bonus..” The mistress propped herself on the marble counter, bar spoon elegant on her lips. </p>
<p>“Hey, what do you two want? I’m down to being bartender tonight..” </p>
<p>—</p>
<p>“You, taking on the job of a mayor?” </p>
<p>The mistress and the man conversed outside the apartment patio. The man had removed the wretched flea coat and cap disguise the moment he entered into the private area. Buttons down uniform, a glint of sweat ran down his chest. Poison adjusted her top in a way the man would have paid attention, but he just sat out there lounged, not so happy a beer and her dying bubblegum colada of whatever she concocted. </p>
<p>“Not so shabby on you, it’s actually surprising you’d take the job on.” She sipped her mixture. Letting her bra strap slip down her shoulder. The man pursed his lips, taking another swig of his beer. <em> Was this another way to convince him to join her wrestling organisation? </em>The mayor continued his drinking spree, although he knew the discussion gap he left within the conversation.</p>
<p>“Look sister, becoming the mayor just kinda happened. My way, I'd rather be in my cell." He explained himself, facing his head towards the woman so chillaxed about his position. “Sitting around, placing your signature over a couple copies of whatever’s so important, it’s like my ass gets pampered all day…”</p>
<p>The strawberry woman rolled her eyes, proceeding with a giggle that seemed a joke. <em> What was so funny? Why was she laughing? What was there to joke about other than how boring things have become? </em> The man took a deep sigh, a low groan to remedy the aching hangover that stuck resolutely on his head. Poison was pleased to see the man <em> enjoy himself, </em>hot chick, bubbly personality, she got this in the bag. </p>
<p>The reformed criminal finished his beer. Staring at her with eyes that she can potentially claim hers. He moved in closer, their lips just “locking” together. </p>
<p>“Hey, where’s that large Hugo guy?” The man asked. “Sorry, too close on that one.”</p>
<p>“Y-You weren’t <em> that </em> close to me?! Move in and I’ll tell you what happened.” The woman scrambled, <em> what was this hard-to-get situation? Did he know that the guy catches the gal? Not the other way around! </em></p>
<p>“Nah, come on. I’m fine back here. Prison’s never hurt my ears.”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>“Are you sure this could help Mayor Cody?”</p>
<p>“Mr. Haggar, the symptoms have been right in front of us. Lackluster behaviour, no signs of engagement, anger and irritability...” </p>
<p>City Hall, conference room around the entrance kiosk. Marlowe had long awaited the consultation of Haggar, mingling, inquiring and consulting with a variety of proposal candidates once more. A firm handshake and an open door into the cubicles pencilled outside the boss room, a formally established army veteran took the initiative to reveal himself, sitting an interview with what would be the authority of Metro City. </p>
<p>“Greetings, thank you for the offer of taking me in as one of your associates. I am Colonel F. Schugerg, you can call me Rolento.”</p>
<p>“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Schugerg. From your qualifications, you are familiar with both military and psychological rehabilitation, furthermore, have over 30 years of experience in the battlefield and in psychology.” Marlowe flipped through the papers, Haggar took a long stare at the man before him. The veteran’s scar creased upwards, anticipation of further questioning. The clicking of his equestrian boots made it clear he was excited for the position offered to him. The man clasped his hands, <em> yes, fathom in my greatness. </em></p>
<p>“I’ve coached with men regularly diagnosed with schizophrenia, shell shock and post-traumatic stress disorder.” The general continued. “Just to clarify, these sessions will occur once every two weeks?”</p>
<p>“Do as you may with the boy. It may not be much, but here are the <em> only </em> psychiatric evaluation files recorded in his times at prison. There was not much observation from what I could make, other than he was out-and-about prison and addicted to fighting." Haggar skimmed through the manila folder, offering it to the man. The colonel keen on reading into the information, <em> what mental nut case was he getting himself into? </em></p>
<p>“Thank you for the information. I’d also like to ask.” The colonel stood up, adjusting the straps on his yellow military fatigues. “Would I qualify for a warrant in securing the—”</p>
<p>“I’m aware of your involvement with Mad Gear, Rolento.” Haggar sharpened. The woman had held onto his forearm in restraint, ensuring he controlled his temper. </p>
<p>“<em> But, </em> people change. I don’t think this is the right call, just yet.” Haggar sat down. Reassuring the woman with a gentle glance that he wasn’t going to pounce on the man. Rolento’s lips sizzled in disappointment, but he could understand. <em> A coward like the head of the Mad Gear: Belger deserved more than being pushed off the heights, pinning down an innocent man scot-free. </em>He shared the same hatred for the organisation, especially, whoever had given him the idea to do it.</p>
<p>“Dammit, I get it.” Rolento shuddered. He nodded his head in a sympathy only the former mayor could understand. Packing up the board room, the three had prepared to exit the conference room, parting a shake of hands before going about business. </p>
<p>"Every session. I'm expecting a checkup on how my boy's been doing with his wellbeing."</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>“Welp, nothing you can do about it.” Cody swayed back on his recliner chair. “That feeling of being left behind, just like that. Huh..”</p>
<p>“It’s not my fault really, just a man who can’t grow a pair.” </p>
<p>“You must have done something to piss him off. Cut some slack.”  </p>
<p>“<em>Excuse </em> me?”</p>
<p>The mistress flustered in her embarrassment. <em> Who did he think he was? </em>The woman placed her outfit back in shape, a hmph of dissatisfaction, the woman snatched his drink. </p>
<p>The mayor towered above her, getting close and personal towards her chair. <em> Was he seriously deserving of his drink back? </em> His warm beer breath huffed against her breasts. He was determined to get his bottle back, closing in the personal space they had left. The space between them, cramped yet intimate. <em> She liked it. </em>Her nimble hands made its way toward the stubble of his chin.</p>
<p>The man grumbled. Flinging her arm away from his face, he pinned his legs perpendicular to her body, dominance pinning the woman a helpless rest on the reclining chair. “Hey, I don’t know what’s it to you, but what the fuck do you want?” His eyes, an unspoken vulgarity that the love-struck woman couldn’t seem to translate.</p>
<p>If that was enough to shoo someone off, it failed its deed. Poison’s hands rested around his shoulders, letting her body slither onto his.<em> When was the last time he had touched a woman? </em>His mind swirled at the soft sensation of the woman’s breasts, pressing against his chest.</p>
<p>Far from coy, Poison wrapped her slender legs onto his back. The two were caught in a tangle. “So, loving the view?” The woman leaned in closer. <em> Was she getting the message? </em></p>
<p>Cody clenched his teeth, averting his eyes from the woman’s sight. He wasn’t particularly aroused, entertained, or longing for her attention. He was interested in something else, his eyes scanning her body up and down.</p>
<p>The mistress bit her lip, whispering in his ear. “Now, now, you don’t have to suffer it all alone. Let me help you.” Poison unbuttoned his shirt, trying to let him off without it. The man seized her wrist, the woman red in frustration. </p>
<p>“Hey, come on! I get it, playing hard to get huh? Why the hell is every hot guy so dense?!” The woman pushed the man off her chair. Both his back and the chair, sent plummeting onto the cobblestone floor. Fabric penetrated by the wood that it stood on. </p>
<p>The man pulled his attire together, tucking the polo she so hardly tried to take off. He could feel the oppressing tightness of office fabric tearing against his muscle. He needed his fix, a challenge, <em> anything. </em> All <em> this talking, this playing, </em> he wanted it to shut up. His skin was rushing with heat, adrenaline trying to escape his body. He’d rather be fighting, cold and alone, bored and uninterrupted, <em> better than the fucking hell he withstood trying to let meaningless words do the talking. </em>He firmly resolved. </p>
<p>“Hey, I’m not done with you. You said I can have it all right?” The man rose above the floor. The woman could barely stand up on her feet in the intoxication of alcohol. </p>
<p>“Come on, <em> fight me!” </em></p>
<p>“Wait, whaaat?! Are you hearing properly? I was trying to <em> bed </em>you!” Poison yelled. She felt around her waist, trying to let her whip elongate in defense. </p>
<p>The man laughed to himself, rummaging the outdoors for his beer bottle, he took another chug and had cracked the glass into two. A makeshift sharp crafted in his hands. </p>
<p>“Fuck it, this is going to suck.” Poison sighed, letting the whip slap onto the stone yard. Not the wrestle she expected<em> , but this was going to do for now. </em></p>
<p>“Come now Mister Mayor, show me how much prison’s changed you!” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Relapse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sound of a fight quenched his thirst. </p><p>Cody could remember a time like this. It was the motions of the kicking, punching, grunting. The feeling of his body surging with a power that flowed effortlessly from his hands, every hit and swing, every shimmy and every sway. It was what kept him sane, and was the very person he could ever be. </p><p>The mistress flailed. </p><p>His legs swooped.</p><p>The cacophony of shards and leather was worth the attention, the two sparring on improvisational battlegrounds, it was war and by the looks of it, someone was ending up red.</p><p>“Poison, watch out!”</p><p>“For the love of God, yer’ punches are sloppy!”</p><p>Her legs went overhead. His fists remained firm and steady. He could feel his skin, blistering with the stinging pain that surrounded his arms. The woman couldn’t stand it either, a mark of a few empty cuts along her wrists, wincing at the glass that she could only take out if she had the chance to. But the man, caving in right in front of her. </p><p>Wasn’t going to let that happen.</p><p>Every hit. Every swing. Cody remained indifferent. His head swooped side to side, nothing but sweat running down his body. No screaming, no grunting, no nothing. Poison was frustrated,  her whip desperately trying to land a hit of anything that would take the man flying onto the floor. </p><p>Every sway. Every movement. He clutched the shards deeper against his palms, fresh wounds trickling blood down his forearms. The woman was dumbfounded. </p><p>He didn’t flinch, no matter the strike of each whip, his eyes remained the same. His arms delivering blows with consistent force and energy. Everything she did to put him on his knees was useless against him, but what was scarier was his face. </p><p>He was smiling.</p><p>
  <em> “Every man must walk his own path. Are you certain you have found yours, Cody?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh shaddup.” </em>
</p><p><em> Every hit. Every swing. </em> </p><p>“On your knees! Avant Line!”</p><p>The tip of her foot swung past his head. The man stumbled, dropping the shards of glass that he clung onto.</p><p>The man smirked, letting his feet slide against the stone. “I’m not done yet.” </p><p>Pronto, he left nothing but a trail of blood on the floor. </p><p>“Aaaa!” The woman slipped onto the stone, scraping her back against the concrete. </p><p>A pair of legs hooked onto her ankles. He had tripped her off guard, and now, up in front of her was a fist so close to her face, ready to launch blast off.</p><p>
  <em> “Nghh. It’s not.. T-true..” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tattered karate fabric, lying on the floor. Bloodied in the man’s punches. Staring off once more, He who fled into the night. Barely hanging on. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cody gazed once more. It was always that cold face, he could see him leaving. Consciousness drifting. A sadness etched in those very eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Sorry ___, It’s like I told you. I only fight by myself nowadays.” </em>
</p><p>“Hey dimwit.” The mistress cracked a smile. Her knees trembled in pain, powering her muscles through the tough muscle. She laughed to herself, the man barely realising his position.</p><p>
  <em> SLAM.  </em>
</p><p>The woman jumped off his shoulders. The mayor dead on the ground. “If you’re going to daydream, you better clean up what you started first of all.” The woman collapsed onto his back, proud of herself, tired of whatever powerhouse she had just fought.</p><p>“Brings me to it. How about—”</p><p>“The time when my term ends?” He suggested. The mistress’ eyes sparkled. What was a playful poke in the rib led the man flinching up from the floor.</p><p>“Hey, you two. It’s getting late!” Abigail’s face was scrunched. His hands shoved the two to see the mess they’ve made, the ruckus itself was an impression that would take more than an apology to make amends.</p><p>“What are you three talking about! You’d pay hundreds to see top-quality fighting like this! This is a prime example of how well I can kick ass.”</p><p>“And <em> you </em>, you're still an asshole. Since you lost the bet, take me out somewhere.”</p><p>—</p><p>If she were Jessica, she’d know his favourite food was street meat. </p><p>Take a walk downtown at night, and one would see that the Metro City Drive-In at Night was the perfect pitstop for street food delicacies. It was simple, hell, what could be cooked under all the grease? The broiling meat, the smokey savour of steak. Kebabs, meat skewers and frugal dollar knockoffs, this was the life Cody was accustomed to. The skedaddle of people, roaming left and right, whatever race, gender, class or age. What brought them together was comfort food, and was a place he had a sweet spot for.</p><p>“For a guy who’s gonna earn a fortune with the whole city by his shoulders, this is cheap.” Poison said. She was well-relaxed into the night, the two deciding to sit by a bench with bottles of beer. The change of pace, from a quick fight to alfresco dining, it softened her edge. The whole thing’s been bothering her lately, and a date was well needed after all. Neon lights, park benches and the muffled sound of a stadium rock, it was truly the little things to make her feel better.</p><p>“Eh, how’s this for a small catchup?”</p><p>“A date you mean?”</p><p>“Oh yeah.. That.”</p><p>“You know, you don’t have to force it.” The lady murmured. It was long ago she felt this feeling, the thumping, the beating. The shuffling of her heels, the feeling of heat rising above her head. Her teeth clenched the meat skewer, lipstick staining the wood. “I’m sorry about pouncing on you like that. I guess I can get too caught up in the moment.”</p><p>“No shit, I’m still hands off.” The man grinned. The woman looked him up and down, paying contact to his staring, her eyes serpentine to finding a bond. <em> What was underneath those eyes? </em> The man put his hands on her shoulders. He wouldn’t stop pulling up the strap she tried to show off. A few fries and shish kebab remaining, the man delighted in the umami flavour. </p><p>“I guess life’s been an incredible shithole right now.” The man initiated a conversation. Poison rolled her eyes, taking a swig of her bottle. </p><p>“What’s the worst that could happen now? The only way is up.” She relaxed her lips. Keeping her legs folded. Cody was familiar with that enthusiasm. She had dreams ahead of her, hell, a whole lot of her reputation’s probably been on cosmopolitan magazine. Her warm hands crept upon his palms, grasping onto it with a tenderness he hadn’t felt since.</p><p>The woman ran her nails through his hair. His locks were rough, unkempt and felt bedhead. She was mesmerised. Someone as troublesome as him, he was like a lost puppy. Cody jerked his shoulder, the mistress respectably giving him his personal space. She placed her hand on his cheek, a peck of her lips kissed upon it.</p><p>“Crap, I gotta get back.” Poison let go of the man. His hands made his way to grip her hand, as if he didn’t want her to leave just yet. Staring at her once more with those eyes. </p><p>“Now, now, don’t pout.” She patted her clothing free of creases. As much as she didn’t want to say it, a tenant’s got a curfew from her landlord. The woman reached for a marker somewhere around her waist, only to find mascara beneath the pockets.</p><p>“Call me.” She gestured, her hips turned back a departing show as she left the grounds. The man watched her leave, catching the kiss she had blown into the air. </p><p>No one around, he could feel his face dimples tense upwards.</p><p>He was smiling.</p><p>—</p><p>“Mayor Cody, we’re expecting your proposal by the end of this week.” The pencil-skirted lady had entered his room without much care. She was followed by the hulking figure of the father who leaned by the lining of his office door. Haggar and Marlowe, seated towards the mayor within the obsidian lounge, worked along the staff laptops as they touched base. It was a day mundane at the city hall, but from everything that’s come to light, he felt a glimmer of something he could look forward to. The man typed away.</p><p>“Cody, boy, we need a word with you.” Haggar had brought a familiar case onto the coffee table. The man flinched.</p><p>“Since your old man’s down for a slicker upgrade, we managed to get you a lil something to make life easier.” Haggar lended him the new laptop, the man’s eyes scanning for any visible sign of damage.</p><p>“Mayor Cody, please make sure you act accordingly. You’re not above the law, expect a lawsuit for any breaches to your contract this time around.” The scarlet assistant paid close attention to his actions, letting her fogging glasses weigh the significance of the matter.</p><p>The man skimmed through the mayor’s papers. “This idea of yours, well, it’s a tough one.” Haggar spoke his mind. </p><p>“Yeah-yeah, you’ve said enough already. I wanna get this done.” Cody was shuffling the strange papers laid about his desk, it seemed out of himself to organise his workspace. Haggar helped the boy out.</p><p>“Cutting the budget on commercial industries, it isn’t that bad.” Haggar picked the fluff off his clothing, bare teeth as he had let the boy his space. “The problem now is that people don’t listen. Give the money, they’d have spent before a week’s time.”</p><p>“Hey, what’s yer point? This isn’t charity work.” Cody gazed at the floor, a roll to his eyes and a deep breath. No matter what they did, he couldn’t help but feel a rising tension in his body. He was tired enough, barely on eight hours of sleep. He didn’t appreciate being babied first thing in the morning. The man sighed. “So, are you two going to keep bothering me or what?”</p><p>“Not for long.” The woman gathered a small sticky note she had produced out of her purse. It was a directory of the first floor hall. ‘Dr. Schugerg’ labelled in red. Haggar patted the man’s back, he always stared with those same eyes.</p><p>“I hired an employee to handle the team.” Haggar explained, wary with his words.</p><p>“Starting this year, he'll meet up with everyone once in a while, personal evaluations and all..” </p><p>“Huh, this name sounds familiar.” The convict held his chin, narrowing his eyes on the name. </p><p>“Before you finish up for tonight, make sure you have a chat with him.” Haggar requested. The woman’s nails dug into his dress shirt, pulling him away from the office room. The two were exchanging a nod he couldn’t understand.</p><p>“Is that understood?”</p><p>“Yeah, whatever.”</p><p>—</p><p>City hall, dimly lighted and filled with the pitter-patters of businessmen.</p><p>"Hey, anyone here?" Cody banged on the door. 8PM, nearby general closing hours, who was inside that door better be worth his time. The man was drowsy yet again, it was the contradicting sensation of wanting to go to sleep and staying awake. He was itching for a nap, but ever since he's been out, it seemed he had to sleep like a normal Metro City Yorker. The man banged the door once more.</p><p>"Hey, a light's open in here so I know someone's there."</p><p>"Ahem, mmh-yes. Come in." A deep voice was on the other side of the room. The man jolted when he saw the scarred face, more punchable than ever.</p><p>"Rolento?! What the hell are you doin' here?" Cody raised a kick to the office chair. His breath was heavy, flinching for a sharp as he tackled himself into the room.</p><p>"What'd you do to D.R Schoo- whatever? Don't make me have you—"</p><p>"It's <em> Schoo-Gerg! Schoo-Gerg! </em>Damn, I'm not a threat anymore." </p><p>"Bullshit, I'm giving you one last—"</p><p>"<em>Zip</em> <em>it,</em> Sargeant. I'm here to check on your wellbeing." The man thwacked his cane onto the prisoner's palms, getting the man to sit down obediently. </p><p>"Now, first line of duty. Clean my damn office and report to me immediately!" </p><p>—</p><p>He didn't know if he was here for a personal evaluation, or was steps close to being thrown into a psych ward.</p><p>It was a camo room that screamed Vietnam War jungle base. The room invited itself for an interview, a shabby stack of posters and cupboard material fresh off of shipping. He didn't know why a military man such as Rolento would consider the likes of living the city life, regarding his crazy plans on dictating the entire world. Cody tapped his fingers on the desk, awaiting a response from the Colonel that sat silent without regard for his client. It was odd, the man studying him from afar, his eyes studying him like a lab experiment. </p><p>“What? You think I’m crazy?” The man snatched the clipboard off of Rolento’s grasp, whatever was on the boxes, ticks and all, he didn’t like it. </p><p>“The hell, you too? What the hell does Mad Gear want to do with this city now?” </p><p>“Shut your trap, I’m carrying orders from the council. And right now..It appears we have a defective unit.” Rolento took back the papers, narrowing his eyes at the criminal as he wrote down notes. The prisoner took in an audible huff from his lips, a groan of disinterest as he rested his shoes on the side table. </p><p>“Hey, I don’t care about your orders. I’m not saying a word.”</p><p>“Not with that attitude you are.” Rolento took the staff from the side of his chair, shooing off the foot that laid on his table with no regard of consideration. “You got a nation behind you and I order you to straighten up! Do you know how much power you have on the line?” </p><p>Cody stood from his chair, the man challenged back. Pointing the staff right onto the criminal’s solar plexus. Rolento was sneering, Cody retreated his arm back, knowing very well how defenseless a position he was in was not worth the trouble.</p><p>“You’re no longer a threat to me, but if I were the mayor hiring an amateur like you would be a unit less on the frontline.”</p><p>“Out of all the people huh, why you?” The man let out a tired sigh. Rolento didn’t appreciate the amount of intolerance his subordinate had for his chief. Pope-like, he drew his stick downwards. Advising the two to sit down for a conversation.</p><p>“I came to Metro City not because of Mad Gear, my militia and I were scouting for power.” The colonel let his hands relax on the scandinavian armchair, rubbing the non-existent stache on his face. “I didn’t expect that out of all my applications, I would appoint myself a therapist.” </p><p>“Shucks, you’d make a horrible therapist.”</p><p>“Zip it.”</p><p>“Alright, you caught me. We’re trying to expand our nation.” Rolento walked by his desk to retrieve a pair of shot glasses, a flask of substance as he poured a cup for the two. Rolento took a drink first, nothing visible consequently. Cody accepted the glass.</p><p>“I’m not here to give you sympathy. Now that you know my role, I’m here to keep you in check. No strings attached, I could care less about whatever base-level grunt I’m dealing with. If you’re handling one of the State’s largest sectors, you’re my business.” He glared at Cody, affirmative to orders he strictly wanted him to follow.</p><p>“So, you think you have what it takes to be mayor? What are you scheming for this nation?” He paid attention to the younger man, the soldier giving the boy space to collect himself.</p><p>“Well, now you say so.” Cody fixed his gaze to his shot glass. “Metro City has one of the highest crime rates in the states. XY-whatever days ago, a snooty CEO was thinking of bulldozing the poorer districts of the city.” </p><p>“These days, it’s the public responsible for cleaning after the city. I’m cutting off the funding in military and public relations, using it for the people at the slums, developing a financial statement or something, heh, I really don’t know what I'm saying.” </p><p>“So you’re doing some care package of some sort? What in the hell?”</p><p>“God, I don’t know. I still haven’t sorted it all out.” Cody fumbled the stubble on his chin, picking out the hairs to ease his uneasy stomach. His shallow smile, Rolento knew of what he was thinking.</p><p>“Damn, what is this? Some charity organisation? You don’t know who the hell could be lurking around there.”</p><p>“And this is our chance to do something about that.” Cody stammered. He could feel his fists clench.</p><p>“Listen, in this world it’s dog-eat-dog. I don’t know what fairytail you’re living in but these days, it’s every man for themselves. Work hard, play hard, you gotta work it out or <em> nothing </em>will happen.” The military man scoffed, clicking fingers at his face. “Hey, do you hear me or not?”</p><p>“I’d appreciate a luxury or two but it’s the people down there, it’s.. It’s fucking—”</p><p>“Hey, don’t get all emotional in here this is a—” </p><p>“Man, it’s all so wrong. You don’t know who could be out  there. Days ago I saw a kid fend for his life!” His face tensed. The carpet stomped in his shoe print.</p><p>Did he do something wrong? Rolento had scrunched his face, Cody witnessing his palm meet the lining of his scar. <em> What was so wrong with giving a bit of money? </em>Rolento took a deep breath.</p><p>“Soldier, what happened to you?” </p><p>“... What?”</p><p>“You would make a perfect Corporal. But this, Private, this is embarrassing.” Rolento winced. “What happened to that guy who couldn’t give two toots about whatever stood in his way?”</p><p>Cody felt a bubbling anger rise in his words. The man landed a fist to his face, pulling his blonde hair and a curse word on impact. He had seen the military man write notes, <em> God, what was there to report about? What if Rolento was right all along? That it was wrong to show a bit of mercy to god-knows-the-amount of people living through hell out there? </em></p><p>“You can go, dismissed.” </p><p>The man didn’t know what to do. Holding onto nothing but the open wound of yesterday’s fight. The alcohol had no substance to his frustration. Exiting as he closed a few lamp posts, he had called his cop friend.</p><p>“Lucie, got any criminals I can solo?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Curb Your Fighting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “Listen kid, I don’t wanna pick a fight.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Dude, what the hell? What’s going on with you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t appreciate you knockin’ my turf around like it’s some playground.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re no longer a threat to me or my plans. That man’s long gone since .” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “God, don’t you have some decency? This isn’t the fucking ring.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Cody, I'm sorry. This isn’t going to work out. I’m headed to study abroad soon. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” </em>
</p><p>“Hey, mister man?” </p><p>A smaller, feistier <em> blonde </em>asian woman, who appeared to be on a motorcycle; a dark alleyway in the streets. Cody couldn’t recollect what happened after his tantrum outside city hall. She was leaning herself against the graffiti-ridden building, legs clutched onto the seats of a dark motorcycle as she poked the barely conscious man with a stick.</p><p>“Fuck, are you <em>dead</em>?” The girl huffed. Her red garments, wrapped tightly around her muscular frame, were adjusted by the nimble hands of the woman. Was it <em>him or did she ring a</em> <em>bell</em>? <em>He swore</em> she seemed familiar, although no matter how his eyes trailed to observe, he was caught in a tangle of milk crates, half-beaten outside a dumpster alley, late at night and hardly any pennies to call Haggar or Lucia. He was fucked.</p><p>“Well, well, another lousy alcoholic. You know how bad those are for your liver right?” The girl came closer, the tingles in areas that shouldn’t be mentioned, she hadn’t stopped poking him with the stick. Irritated, Cody had snatched it away from the girl. </p><p>“Hey idiot! Don’t you know what those are? I need them for my missions— Cut it out!” </p><p>
  <em> Whack.  </em>
</p><p>Cody held his wrist, a faint purple emerging from his skin. She really just beat him with a stick. The man retaliated—</p><p>But met the unpleasant crunching of glass that stuck to him on the ground.</p><p>“Ha! Next time watch where you’re goin’.” She snorted. </p><p>“Hey, you don’t know who yer talkin’ to.” </p><p>“What? An embarrassment?” The girl scoffed. Although a lack of care, she had let him loose as the woman let him onto her arms for support.</p><p>“Nice outfit.”</p><p>“Better than yours, you look like some snazzy drug dealer.” </p><p>“Don’t have the time.” The man mumbled. He eyed the woman’s appearance, she seemed nothing but a foreigner, but either way, she should know a thing or two. </p><p>“Hey, do you know where I am?”  </p><p>“You moving in too?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“A bit quiet here, but you’re in Uptown Metro City. We got some trucks comin’ along, I guess I’m a citizen here now.” The girl adjusted her biker gloves. “And yeah, before you ask: we know what <em> crazy shit </em> lurks around here.”</p><p>“No crap, largest crime capital. I guess I’m just a few blocks away..” Cody said. Following the street lights by the boulevard, it was oddly isolated. <em> At least part of the town cared for some peace and quiet. </em> </p><p>“Hey! Where do you think you’re going? Wait up!”</p><p>—</p><p>“You think he lost his way around?” Lucia hollered to the father. She was on the couch, frilly blue pyjamas and scrolling through her phone. </p><p>They haven’t heard from the man after his alleged talk with the counselor, but a skim through Schugerg’s notes of the session, it didn’t end well. Meatloaf on platters, dished heartily and stored in the oven, the two didn’t know what would take him so long to come back home. The father flailed his hands against the running water, rinsing the dishes in a cacophonic clatter of ceramic. The cop was not engaged with the fake news the media had offered to her, a small glimpse of newspapers and magazines by the table, the cop could see the tiny figures making their way past the area.</p><p>“What the— What are you guys doing here?”</p><p>“Hey! You’re back. Nothin’ to fret, just yer friendly police officer crashin’ dinner tonight.” </p><p>“Boy, show me your hands.” </p><p>Haggar walked to the front door, holding the mayor’s wrist as his bigger hands enveloped around his.</p><p>“Knew it. You went out fighting again didn’t you?”</p><p>“Don’t get all smart with me.” Cody flicked the man’s grasp off. “All I could remember was wakin’ up in an alleyway with some strange girl.”</p><p>“So you <em> beat </em> her up?”</p><p>The man rolled his eyes, back turned with no intention of replying back. Hanger by the front door, he put away his coat as he unbuttoned the tuck-in he endured the whole day. </p><p>“Cody, we talked about this. You know you can’t just go around beating people—”</p><p><em> “Who said I beat anyone up?” </em> The man’s voice rose in volume. He couldn’t understand what he was feeling, but it was one he never experienced before. His heart thudded from his chest, fingers curled in a restraint so huge he could punch the wall. Lucia stood up, ready to do anything she could do to stop the commotion. The air was tense. The sound of nothing but street ambience and the after-sizzle of kitchenware, Cody could barely keep his edge. A shallow laughter escaping from his lips.</p><p>“God, I don’t know man.” Cody slumped his shoulders, a long breath, he pulled up a dining chair. The cop followed beside him, making contact with eyes she hoped he would understand. A melancholic smile, he let the officer wrap an arm around his shoulder. </p><p>“You don’t have to know, at least right now Codes.” Lucia smiled. Her hands could feel the quake of vibration that ran across his back, patting the manchild whatever ease for what he was going through. </p><p>“Boy, tell us what’s going on. You know we got <em> you </em> right?”</p><p>“Man, I’m not ready. Give me some time and I’ll figure this whole thing out yeah?”</p><p>—</p><p>“Hey, you there! …. Yep, right there. Uh-huh..” </p><p>A panoramic view of an empty store front, early morning breeze as trucks made their way in and out of the city kerb. A blonde woman couldn’t help but pick the strands of black hair that faded its way through her dye, the metronomic steps of her sneakers as she awaited for someone outside the industrial glass.  </p><p>“Ah, Miss Genryusai, pleasure to have you up so early in the morning.”</p><p>The woman bowed her head, clutching the few package boxes she carried alongside her. Past her denim jacket, the weather today was not ideal, her skin bracing the wind’s gist as her blood ran cold. She rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Master, are you sure this is the right place to set up a dojo?” The girl argued. “I was expecting a nature trip up in the mountains or whatever, an enemy can spot us in broad daylight if we stay here!” </p><p>The senior, seemingly a grandpa to the girl, broke into a smile. He knew what he was doing, although he’d appreciate it if his apprentice had more faith in him. A slick strand of grey fringe out of his eyesight, he rolled up his vest sleeves as he received the packages from the woman.</p><p>“What is there to fear? Foresee an enemy or not, it's inevitable.” He swung his head, inviting the two to help him towards his car trunk. They boarded the gleaming vehicle, etched with traditional kanji embellished onto the lining of the car. The apprentice, seated at the front seat, had rested a hand on her face, a look to the driver that told him well enough she was unsure of his decisions. The man revved the engine.  </p><p>“The wilderness was my very first option at the start, Maki.” </p><p>“Okay sure, then why move somewhere as seethrough as the centre of Metro City than like— the rural outskirts or something?” She scoffed, she wasn’t buying his idea. A warm breath of mist seeping from the man’s mouth.</p><p>“Bushin Ninjutstu.” He said. Rolling up the car windows, never was there another word she heard over a million times.</p><p>"Have I ever told you my purpose to teach?" He began. "As you know, the times are <em> changing </em> . I'm not <em> actually </em> preparing people for combat warfare, I wanna prepare them for—Hmm.." He clicked his fingers.</p><p>"For?"</p><p>"Whatever it is, everything living is worth defending. Even the worst of them all. I teach Bushin Ryu so people can find themselves, so that people can learn the value of life: growth, purpose, empowerment..." The master patted the dragon emblem etched on his lime green vest, rolling his sleeves in consideration of the road. "Why not begin at a place so accessible to the outside world? Where even the simplest can harness such great potential?"</p><p>The white noise of radio was halted by the girl’s fingers. Who turned the knob instantaneously, her eyes turning towards the sensei's words.</p><p>"Does that suffice?" He said.</p><p>"You know, we'd be doing better at the dojo if you weren't such a happy geezer." Maki folded her arms, an obvious denial of his wisdom. She couldn't contain her admiration, putting up a front that failed to hold at the carefree master. He knew how she could be, no matter her cold nature, how caring and worrisome she was on the inside. His exhale was short and chirpy, whistling his lips into song.</p><p>"We'll be heading out for a morning tea. There's plenty of foreign foods out here, aren't you fascinated?"</p><p>"You're always fascinated."</p><p>"Also, stop calling me master. Moving somewhere at the likes more <em> 'urban' </em>, I'd prefer Zeku."</p><p>"Okay, Master Zeku. Right, shit— that's gonna be hard to get used to.."</p><p>—</p><p>If he left his door wide open, he would be disturbed by the cubicle commotion coming from the lunchroom. Cody could care less about the lack of regard he had for the items on his desk side. Whether it was the mug stains on a pile of scrap paper, or the array of sticky notes stuck precariously by the borders of his computer screen, he was on crunch time, managing to punch as many letters as he can hours before proposal deadline. He hummed a small bit, jingled keys dangling from the tips of his fingers, a misery cast his eyes. Roughly, he pinched his cheeks with his two hands. </p><p>"Mayor, you've got someone waiting for you by the lobby." </p><p>"Alright, tell em I'll be headin' down there soon."</p><p>A nod from his assistant, Marlowe, she let an eye fix upon his desk clutter. He stood up from his chair, escorted by the sickly woman as she let her eyes drift past the mess. The two arrived by the stairs.</p><p>"Ah, ahem, okay. You're.. dressed?"</p><p>"Hmph, I spent hours finding something business casual. Is that all you got?" The guest smiled. She was clutching onto a few paper bags, seemingly alcohol.</p><p>It was Poison who arrived by the lobby, black pencil skirt and a cleavage dress shirt belted onto her proudly. Looking the man up and down, she took off the cosmetic business glasses by her ears.</p><p>"You really do look like a mayor, much like the old one if I say so myself.."</p><p>"Kay.. Thanks, but I'm busy." The man looked the mistress up and down, she was cunning with her choice of dresswear, a subtle risque on the get-go, he could tell the effort she put in her attire. Poison ran her fingers through the buttons of his dress shirt, tugging the oxford knot towards her. Her lips just touching his ears.</p><p>"Mister Mayor, you know how important a meal is once in a while." She whispered. "Come on, let's get out of this dump and have some fun. My treat." </p><p>“Mayor Cody.” Marlowe intervened. She was skimming through her business tablet. “If you wish for a lunch break just let me know so I can clock you out.” </p><p>“Well?”</p><p>“Ah, okay.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. Gently pushing her away, he rearranged his loosened tie. "Well then, see you all at the meeting." He nodded his head to the assistant. Poison was already a foot out of the corporate lobby, leaving the automated door open for him. </p><p>"Wow, what a gentleman." She said. He didn't know where they were necessarily going, but to the monotonous duty of deskwork and public speaking, he was better a break out in the streets. The man let his hands slide into his pockets, his feet guided by the charming woman who treat him to another round of street meat by the alleyway. Surprisingly enough, Metro City without the press couldn't give a stuff about a mayor walking downtown. A break by the park bench, he let his shoulders drop down, letting the woman do all the gestures for him. Her hand made its way onto his thigh, a little off-guard for the hooligan who was savouring the juicy nature of steak. Poison gigged that tiny bit, letting out a sigh of relief.</p><p>“You’re great at fighting, don't you know how much you could make with those beefy arms?" She paid a look to him. A reflection from his last spar, he knew well of the rush he felt fighting the lady. The adrenaline, the quenching satisfaction, <em> the desire </em> . He thought about it for quite a while, <em> they say one lives a happier life making a living off of something they love. And fighting, well, it was the only thing he's ever known. </em>He rubbed the stubble on his chin, for once, he was at crossroads of what to do in the future, but like always, he didn't quite know what he wanted.</p><p>"Hey, stop thinking, it's ruining our date." The woman bantered. The man sighed, a smile as he shoved her off the bench. The woman's heels brought her face to the ground.</p><p>"You little—" She flicked the loose heel towards his face, aiming the shank near his jaw. </p><p>"Okay, ow." He caught the mistress's shoe, bending over to the ground as he rightfully placed the piece back onto her foot. She rose up from his shoulders, patting off street gunk from whatever she sunk herself into. The two froze when they heard the loud pang of dumpster metal. The woman chuckled to herself, immediately clutching onto the bags by the mayor's side. </p><p>"Hey, what's your deal with those bags?"</p><p>"Keep it quiet and you'll see." She held his wrist, following the source of the sound.</p><p>A discrete area through the concrete jungle, gangs of men had been smuggling weapons through the capital. Poison took a curious peek at the brick wall that separated both mayor and the criminals, leaning against the wall, she revealed what was in the paper bags.</p><p>"Okay, so you brought a few beverages to lighten the mood?" He whispered. "Don't waste em here."</p><p>The woman flinched, scratching the side of her head. "Knucklehead, these will do the talking." </p><p>She slapped her whip, a warning sound as she approached the gang. The mayor rolled his sleeves, following the woman behind. </p><p>"Well boys, care to come to our custody and hand those weapons over?" She said. Pulling the edges of her whip with a force ready to slash. </p><p>"You're messing with the wrong people lady." A monstrous man emerged, his members held a few stances, approaching carefully towards the duo. </p><p>"That's what they always say." She turned to the mayor, a signal to the alcohol bottles he carried. "Hit it!"</p><p>The incendiary crackle of glass, the contents burst a liquid, spreading a flame that ignited chaos around the lines of concrete. The woman smiled, seemingly experienced to such anarchy. The men lunged through the fire, a bullrush of headbutts and knockdowns scored by the lady's whip. Cody followed after, his fists pounding against each opposing threat. </p><p>Game over, the flames were dying out. his cravings were more than satisfied, his eyes nothing but fixated on the lady ahead of him. His heart skipped that tiny bit, so long had he experienced a thrill so dangerous, he let the lady walk to pick up a missing heel—</p><p>But amidst the smoke, a bullet traveled its way to the glass of a sidewalk car. The smaller thug, shaking in glass shards had dared to disrespect the game of street fighting. A loaded gun. The lady's heart clenched, she felt as if she was just that inch closer to death. Her whip elongated once more, its thorns wrapping towards his ankles. The thug went running, splashing onto the ground. His body wailed in a screech demonic to the ear. Both partners in crime, without a care bolted out of the scene, the whistles of car sirens up ahead. </p><p>"When's the fire gonna stop?"</p><p>"More running, less talking!"</p><p>The siren blared up ahead, the familiar face watching by. She sighed to herself, pulling her cap down in the feeling of doubt.  </p><p>“Darn, I thought we set the rules straight with the fighting..”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>